Not a Thing to Do But Talk to You
by Willofthewisp
Summary: A series of isolated points in time that truly showcase the gang's journey to adulthood, ranging from the normal teenage problems of insecurity and heartbreak, to the uniquely strong love they share, this is what happened from 1970 to 1981. H/J, E/D
1. Moms: The Girl You Think You See

**A/N: My first That 70s Show fic. Be gentle! The first section is called "Moms" and is just a series of flashbacks between 1970 and 1980. The fifth and last section will take place in 1981. I don't own the characters, don't even own the dvds. Please read and review.**

* * *

Point Place Junior High Playground

1971

"Damn, Donna! There's gotta be something in the rule book about reaching around me like that!" Kelso whined, kicking the specks of gravel blown over the basketball court. "The sun was in my eyes anyway."

"That's funny because I think I'm an inch taller than you now and the sun's not in my eyes," Donna laughed, giving him a shove. She tucked a loose, thin strand of hair behind her ear and bounced the ball to Hyde before tightening her ponytail. She ran back to guard Kelso, slipping Eric a high-five when they passed each other.

"Okay, just so you know, Hyde, I may be skinny, but I'm spry," she heard Eric say behind her, inducing an amused shake of her head that now came after his comments like dogs came after their food bowls. There was something about them that, even though they were incredibly vapid, she thought, they were funny. Maybe one of her Lost Boys could give her an excuse to use vapid in a sentence today. Right on cue, Hyde rushed past her and hooked the ball right into the basket.

"Yeah, Forman, guess I'm spryer." He grinned, passing the ball to Eric. He held his arms up, waiting for the ball to be checked back to him, when Eric waved at something behind him.

"Guys, I think something must be up because Dave Tramer and Chuck Osogwin are waving over at us."

The three others glanced behind them. Donna brought her hand up to her forehead, keeping it parallel to the ground to see two boys zigzagging down the hall past the swings over to the basketball courts.

"Careful. They're eighth graders," Kelso whispered to her.

"Hey, Forman," the blonde one said. Donna knew the names, knew the faces, but not which one was which. "Got a game going?"

"Yeah." Eric stepped up, hands on his hips, releasing a masculine grunt. "I was just showing my friends here how to set a pike when you showed up."

Donna, Hyde, and Kelso narrowed their eyebrows at him, but either set their jaws or tucked their lips into their mouths to suppress the urge to call him out in front of eighth graders. Donna glanced to her side to see Hyde sticking his hand into his pocket, the flesh of his wrists pulsating, probably gripping his switchblade, she thought. When you're eleven, you have to fight if you want to keep your basketball court.

"Sounds cool," the other one said, and Donna guessed him to be Dave. "Mind if we join you? Actually play a game?"

"Wow. That sounds great," Eric said, eyes wide. "Um, Donna, I don't think we need to change up teams, do you? Okay, Dave, you can join Donna and me and Chuck, you can play with Hyde and Kelso."

Dave, the blonde one, sneered at Donna, all the way from her Chuck Taylors to the apex of her ponytail. Damn the fact her friends were so dense! She wanted to use these words in actual sentences! Her eyes settled on Dave's grimace, shifting her focus. Placing a hand on her hip, she stared back.

"You guys are playing with a girl? From the hill, we thought she was a guy."

"No, man!" Kelso said, stepping in front of Donna. "This is our chick. We play with her all the time, and when I say play…"

"Want to shut up, Kelso?" she snapped. "You don't want to play me or something?"

"I don't know what Dave's complaining about," Chuck said. "I'm the one who gets to guard you." He reached his arm out, his fingers curving, cupping and squeezing the air in front of him.

"Hey, man…" Eric began, but Hyde pulled him back.

"Think, man," she heard him whisper to Eric. "Just sit back and let this happen. Trust me. What she's about to do to them will be far more humiliating and far more entertaining than anything we could do to them."

"So what? You're afraid to lose to a girl, is that it?" She mimicked Chuck, grabbing at all the imaginary boobs in the air, making exaggerated kissing noises at him.

"Wow, I thought you would just some butch girl. Didn't take you to be a bitch," Dave said.

Unleashing a deep growl from her chest, Donna hurled herself into Dave, knocking him to the ground. She took in a strong inhale from hitting the ground so hard. Scrambling up to straddle Dave, she scooted up until her knee pinned his right arm and drew back her own arm.

"Take it back! Take it back!"

"Are you crazy? You really are a bitch! Get off of me!" Dave bucked under her, writhing left, writhing right, trying to knock her off of him. About to lose her balance, she closed her eyes and propelled her arm down, fist clenched. The sound of her knuckles smacking into his flesh nauseated her. Opening her eyes, they locked in on a windy trail of deep scarlet trickling from his lip down to his chin.

"Dave!" Chuck ran at her. A flash of blue ran past her. Eric slammed into Chuck, who just stood there, watching Eric stagger backward, his eyelids fluttering.

Before she could loosen her grip on Dave and dash to him, she heard Kelso and Hyde's cries sound closer and closer before they tackled Chuck from either side, a sort of reverse Red Rover, Donna thought. Turning back to Dave, she drew her arm back once more.

"You gonna take it back now, you misogynistic, elitist, vapid…bastard?" she screamed at him, dizzy from her own rage. Her eyes felt hot, as if they truly were burning. A mix of tears and sweat stung her eyelashes, but she kept her eyes on him, biting her lip. If she could just make that stare icy enough in spite of the overwhelming heat hovering over her cheeks and eyes, he would go away. Dave shook his head. The pig shook his head, she thought, slowly straightening out her legs and standing over him.

Performing a crab walk, Dave backed away from her and ran over the hill and out of sight, Chuck right on his tail.

"That was sort of like a crab walk," Kelso observed, walking over to her and placing his elbow on her. "But it was more like a crab sprint than a walk, huh, Big D? You kicked his ass!"

"Donna, are you okay?" Eric asked, taking one of her hands. She wanted to say she was about to ask him the same question, but she couldn't speak. She just stood there, all the words only she and the dictionary knew had toppled out of her head and into the countless blades of grass keeping her from the basketball court.

"See? I told you Donna could handle it. Now when everyone asks where that guy got his split lip, he'll know the truth is that it came from an eleven-year-old girl." Hyde patted her back, the same way he patted Eric's and Kelso's at times. "That was a great hit."

"Yeah. When a girl beats you up, that has to be the ultimate burn," Kelso said. "I didn't understand anything you said to him other than 'bastard,' but that was the best part anyway."

She looked over at Eric, who was looking at the grass.

"I, um, that fight really knocked the wind out of me," she said, faking a chuckle and clutching her stomach. "I'm just going to head on home." Spinning around, she wiped a tear daring to race down her cheek.

"You don't even want to finish playing?" Eric asked. "It's only 5:30."

"I'm good," she said without turning her head. "See you guys later." Her legs longer than they were last year, she could climb the hill in a few easy strides. Folding her arms, her sweaty tears seeped out of her.

_Tell me who you long for  
In your secret dreams  
Go on and tell me who you wish I was  
Instead of me_

* * *

"Donna?"

"Yeah." It had been the slamming of the kitchen door that caught her mother's attention from the checker-patterned dishes in the sink.

"Honey, what happened?" Midge traced the back of her hand over Donna's blotched, sticky face.

"Mom," she said, plopping into a chair at the table. "We ran into these older boys and…they asked if they could play."

"Did they take Eric's ball?"

"No. They…" Her breath hitched before she could let the words pour out of her. "They didn't want me to play. They said they didn't want to play with me, and, and they called me these names. It was terrible!" The last sentence came out a loud sob, all the rage and frustration and insecurity that built up on the walk home finally escaped out of her in that one sound.

_Who cares what I might be for real  
Underneath my games  
Ill let you chose from a thousand faces  
And a thousand names_

"You just come into the living room with me and give your daddy those boys' names!" Midge stood.

"No. No, Mom. I took care of it. I split one of their lips."

"Donna!" Midge burst, her voice cracking. She took the seat at the head of the little table. "What have we told you about fighting?"

"I know. I know."

"No. Repeat it. Repeating it is the only way to learn."

"Fighting is only a good idea when it's with Eric Forman because then it's cute," she recited.

"That's right. Aw, sweetie." Midge leaned to the side and held her. "It's all over now. Tomorrow we can go get you a new mitt and you can go back to that basketball and show it off in front of all those boys."

"No. No, it's not over. I can't get it out of my head! Mom, I want to show every boy like them I'm just as good as they are and how wrong they were to judge me. I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to fall back on! But…" She shivered. "But, but, the guys? They didn't stick up for me!"

"Who did they stick up for?"

"No, no, Mom. I mean, they just sat back when that boy called me those names and they didn't even help me until Eric tried to jump in and then they all ran to his rescue and not mine!" Her hands clawed the tabletop, her elbows drooping over the side. "I know I'm supposed to do things myself. That's what a real woman does. But, I wanted them to fight for me!"

"Honey, listen," Midge said. "You're so different than I was when I was your age. I only had girlfriends. When you're friends with boys, you have to just accept the fact you're going to play by boys' rules, and one of those rules is that sometimes, they say things and do things without thinking. They can say some really stupid things. I hate it when people say stupid things."

Donna raised her eyebrow, transfixed on her mother.

"But, honey, that doesn't mean they're not your friends. Eric and Steven and Michael love you. They're just very, very stupid right now. I'm sure by the time they're men, they'll see how special you really are."

"So…so it's just normal I would want them to stand up for me? I mean, there's nothing like that in _The Feminine Mystique._" She wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"Oh, honey, that's because they're not feminine. They're boys."

"Mom?" She waited until her mother went back to the load of dirty dishes, the rushing of the water slowing her heartbeat. "Thanks."

Heading into her room, Donna collapsed onto her bed and reached underneath it to pull out her book, wondering why Betty Friedan failed to mention just how complex it was to be a woman in addition to how fulfilling it could be. Putting it aside, she reached under her bed again and dug up _Peter Pan_. Flipping to the chapter where Wendy is awarded the title of Mother, she sighed and clung to the familiar words.

_I'm not necessarily  
the girl you think you see  
Whoever you want is exactly who  
I'm more than willing to be  
I'll be insane  
A mathematical brain  
You Tarzan, me Jane  
To please you_

I'm not necessarily  
The girl you think you see  
Whoever you want is exactly who  
I'm more than willing to be  
I'll be a queen  
A foul-mouthed Marine  
Your Mary Magdalene  
to please you


	2. Moms: God of Thunder

Kelso Dining Room

1978

Kelso gulped down his glass of iced tea, heavily sweetened, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Mom pushed the door from the kitchen open with her hip, one hand carrying a large deep bowl of buttered peas and her other carrying a long metallic platter of Salisbury steak. He heard an exhausted whistle escape her lips, each of the fist-sized steaks claimed by forks jammed into them the second the platter hit the table. Even Dad bent over his plate, cutting the steak into triangular bits and wedging them into his mouth before any of his sons, or daughter, could snatch them.

"It's a shame you couldn't bring Jackie over tonight, Michael," Mom said, spooning some peas onto her plate. "Could have used some help finishing off these vegetables."

"Mom, that's because vegetables suck!" Jim blurted. "Just stick to steak, potatoes, bread, and pie and you can't lose!"

"I'm glad Jackie's not here," Clarice said, slapping a butter-smothered knife over her biscuit before cramming it into her mouth. "There's something about her I don't like."

"Maybe it's the fact that she likes butter to go with her bread and not the other way around, obese Clarice." Kasey threw another biscuit at her. His mouth twitching like he was about to say something else, he turned his attention to his left at Adam and swiped a piece of his steak with his fork. "Too slow."

"Damn it, Kasey! I was just about to eat that! Mom!"

"Hush, Adam. There's more than enough for everyone."

"Could I have some more iced tea, Mom?" Shawn asked, holding his glass out in front of her. Rolling her eyes, Mom took the glass and headed back into the kitchen.

"So, Kasey, where are you going with Donna tonight?" Kelso asked between spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. Looking out the window, he wished he was over at Forman's. You could really take your time to enjoy your food over there. Here, it was gone before you even realized it. He had wasted a spaghetti dinner by leaving the thick noodles and light marinara sauce to take a bite of his garlic bread and see what the two tasted like when they were combined in his mouth, and by the time he swallowed, Phillip had taken all that was left on his plate! It would have been a good burn if the little guy had remembered food-related burns are never funny.

"Thinking of getting a motel room after we hang out for a bit."

"Why? So you can fuck her brains out so they spill all over the bed and she loses a bunch of weight because of it that she doesn't even need to lose?"

"Clarice. Language," Mom said, after gaping at her for a solid two seconds, just like everyone else at the table.

"Oh, hon, can you go in the other room and bring me the paper? I didn't get to look at it this morning?" Dad asked, able to look up at her now that he had finished all his Salisbury steak.

About to take a big bite of her own steak, Mom let her fork clink down on the plate before stomping into the living room.

"Dude, you can't get a motel with Donna. Forman'll flip!" Kelso said. He didn't want to imagine his brother on top of Donna. Well, half of that image was nice enough, but if Donna chose to be stupid enough to sleep with someone that wasn't himself, he'd rather it be Forman than Kasey.

"What do you care, Mikey? Foreskin's a square. Pinciotti learned that. Pretty soon, the rest of you will, too."

Mom returned and held a rolled-up paper to Dad. Right after he took it, she held out her other hand and waited for Adam to lift his firecracker off the table and into her palm. Shaking her head, she took a sip of her tea and cut her biscuit in half.

"Why are you wasting time with Donna Pinciotti?" Shawn grimaced from across the table. "She won't put out. She goes to feminist rallies."

"Hey, she put out for Eric Forman, so she'll put out for me," Kasey said, pointing to himself, smirking. "What do you care, Mikey? It's not like I'm going to fuck Jackie…or Laurie Forman, or…"

"Okay, man." Kelso took his empty plate and crossed over to the kitchen door, dodging Jim and Phillip's biscuit-tossing contest. He looked back to see his dad turning a page in the paper, his head completely obscured.

"Mom," he said, putting his plate in the sink, only to hear it clang against the others on its way to the bottom. "Mom, say you got a friend who's a girl, and you got another friend who's a guy, and he really likes that girl and has for a long time and that girl is about to make it with your brother…"

"Please, Michael. I don't have time right now." Mom dashed into the dining after hearing a cry from one of his little brothers followed by a "that really hurt" exclamation. "Just…just…why don't you go over to Eric's? Okay? I've got a mess here."

Picking the keys to the van from the little hook wedged into the wall next to the phone, he hopped into the van and began the familiar trek to the Forman house just a few blocks away from his own. Everything was so nice and slow at their house. Nice and slow didn't usually fit him, but over there, he could calm down, talk to some mature people, show off how mature he was. Yeah, he thought with a nod of his head, mature. See, when a guy is as pretty as he is, it's just logical that some of those good looks would drip down into his brain. A song he memorized long ago broke apart his thoughts.

_God of thunder and rock and roll  
The spell you're under  
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul_

I'm the lord of the wastelands  
A modern day man of steel  
I gather darkness to please me  
And I command you to kneel  
Before the

God of thunder and rock and roll

His head banged the air in time with the bass, his mouth widening to exaggerate the deep, devil voice singing the sexy words. What was that word Donna taught him? Oh yeah, erotic. Huh, for some reason, he started thinking about Donna and Kasey and Eric, even though none of them were virgins like the song said.

_I am the lord of the wastelands  
A modern day man of steel  
I gather darkness to please me  
And I command thee to kneel  
Before the_

God of thunder and rock and roll  
The spell you're under  
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul

Forman really would flip out when he would tell him Kasey planned on taking things to the next level with Donna, or as Jackie always called it, "proving their love." But, he shook his head, the thoughts coming in clearer now that the song's lyrics gave way to a steady guitar solo that would end it totally, Kasey never acted like he loved Donna, and she never acted like she loved him…well, maybe she did. She hung on his every word, not something she, or any girl, would ever do around Forman, but she wasn't herself. Donna had always been so smart, smarter than him, anyway. And that's hard when the good looks drip into your brain. But around Kasey, she acted dumb enough to wear the Packers helmet in the basement. That didn't seem right.

Damn it, why couldn't Mom have just told him what to do? She had seven kids, so she had to know something about doing it, even though the thought of her doing it was disgusting and worse than imagining Hyde's mom, or Forman's mom, or Jackie's mom. Well, Jackie's mom wasn't too bad, but moms were something to stay away from when it came to doing it. But she could have told him what to do! She could have said if he needed to try to talk to Kasey or talk to Donna or talk to Eric, or maybe not talk at all. Maybe some kind of action needed taking, and he was good at action!

At least at the Forman house, Mrs. Forman always had time to listen to him, and to pat his head and give him a cookie and call him honey.


	3. Moms: Say Goodbye to Hollywood

Madison Airport

1980

_Bobby's drivin' through the city tonight  
Through the lights in a hot new rent-a-car  
He joins the lovers in his heavy machine  
It's a scene down on Sunset Boulevard  
Say goodbye to Hollywood  
Say goodbye, my baby  
Say goodbye to Hollywood  
Say goodbye, my baby_

That was the song that was playing during the last time he was in the Circle, he remembered, although that memory lodged itself between last night's dreams and the permanent cloud of smoke that always obscured his friends' faces during those times. All he could usually remember was how stupid they all sounded, but this last time, he knew the words like he knew the lines to _Born Free._

_Kelso: Man, I haven't had this stuff since Betsy was born._

_Eric: Yes, you have._

_Kelso: Man, I haven't had this stuff since after Betsy was born (snorts)._

_Fez: Ah, Kelso. You must come back more often. We miss the stupidity._

_Hyde: Yeah, someone's gotta wear the helmet. We're a little tired of putting it on Fez._

_Eric: Hey, what if…the helmet makes him smarter?_

_(Everyone stares in awe.)_

_Fez: Like, it feeds him information?_

_Hyde: We have to keep it separate from the other helmets!_

_Kelso: You guys are seriously idiots. Seriously. If anything, the helmet makes me better looking…although that isn't hard to do. Ser-eeeee-ous-ly._

_Eric: No, think about it. Every time we put that helmet on you, it's like, you shut up and think before you talk!_

_Hyde: It's a con game, man! He's a plant! _

_Fez: Mm, like a strawberry patch?_

_Hyde: No, Fez! Like a guy working for the Man, but acting like one of us, man! Where's the helmet?_

_(He, Eric, and Hyde start looking for the helmet, only to see Kelso now wearing it.)_

_Eric: How did you do that?_

_Hyde: I told you! It makes him smarter!_

Uneventful, he knew, but Fez didn't care. It was the last Circle he would be a part of for a while, his ticket and the letter replacing the rolled joints in his hand. His bag wrapped across his chest and a suitcase in his other hand, he began rereading the letter in spite of every word being scorched into his heart.

"Fez? Are you okay?" Jackie touched his arm, taking the letter from him. "Reading it again isn't going to make you feel any better."

"I know. I just can't help it."

"Look, try to remember the good things. I want to know that you smiled at least once while you were home."

"Oh, Yackie, we both know it's not really going home." He took a step to kiss her, finally ready to march to his gate, and then reminded his lips to brush her cheek. "Try to call if you can find a phone," she said, hugging him tightly. "I know how poor those foreigners can get."

"I will. Bye!" He waved to her with a half-smile, grateful that she still took him to the airport, stayed with him until the last second, still loved him in some way. Finding his gate number, he transferred from one line to another, a coffee-scented one with outlandish carpet and stewardesses with caps on their teeth.

Near the tail end of the plane, he lifted his suitcase into the bin above him and maneuvered his way to the window seat, just like he had done years ago, on his way into Wisconsin for the first time, staring out the window like a kid in a candy store, or like himself in a candy store. Running through his memories of Point Place, he wondered which ones would leave his mouth first when they asked him what being there was like, which ones he would choose to keep to himself. Pulling a Sugar Daddy out from his jacket pocket, he bit into it, chewing it like a cow, lazily, thoughtfully.

_Johnny's takin' care of things for a while  
And his style is so right for troubadours  
They got him sitting with his back to the door  
Now he won't be my fast gun anymore_

* * *

Fez's Host Parents' House

1977

"Everything here is so great, Mama!" he said in his foreign tongue on the phone, knowing the conversation couldn't last long. "I have many friends."

"How wonderful! They understand you? You can understand them?"

"Most of the time."

"How wonderful." He could picture his mother, tall, willowy, tears rolling down her cheeks after learning that her little boy had assimilated, just like they had rolled down when he told them all he had been accepted into the exchange program.

"We spend a lot of time together at my friend Eric's house. He and his parents and his friend Hyde live there, and next door to them is Donna. I also spend lots of time there." He wouldn't bother translating that he spent a lot of time in her closet. "There is also Kelso, who is very funny, and there is Jackie, his girlfriend."

"They sound lovely."

"They are. Someday, you and Papa will have to come and meet them."

"Do you think I'm rich?" she teased him over the telephone. "We had to sell your cousin into slavery just to make up for you!" She paused, savoring his laughter. "I won't keep you. Be a good American, my love. Learn everything you can. Experience everything you can."

"I will, Mama. I love you."

* * *

Somewhere Above Wisconsin

1980

Sniffling, he buzzed for the stewardess to ask for some water and take a look at her cleavage. This was just the year of separations, he thought to himself, opening up a magazine, only to unfold the letter, written in a language that was foreign to everyone but him, and reread it.

_Movin' on is a chance you take  
Any time you try to stay - together  
Whoa  
Say a word out of line  
And you find that the friends you had  
Are gone forever  
Forever_

Oh, stop moping, he told himself. You'll be back soon enough and they'll all be waiting for you, picking up from wherever we left off. They had all hugged him when he told them and Hyde had sat with him when he dug underneath his bed for his shoebox with every letter he received during his stay in America. Hyde didn't say anything, just sat with him, with his sunglasses off, listening to him talk about how there was a box just as big at his parents' house with letters from him in them. He must have talked well into the night, but Hyde never yawned, never looked at his watch.

Eric and Donna went with him to buy some clothes for his trip, even offering to pay for the tan leather jacket he had on at this very moment. No, he had insisted. But when he opened his wallet and spotted the photograph, he had to rest his head on Donna's shoulder and watch Eric pay for it. I promise all of you, he said, gazing out the window, down at the clouds, I will come back soon. He reread the letter from his father only one more time and tucked it back into his pocket. The words themselves didn't matter anyway—there was only one point to it that he had to know. His mother had died.

**A/N: I know, this was a hard chapter to write. The next one is a downer, too, but friendships go through troubled waters and there will be plenty of upbeat chapters, and even some fluffy ones in the near future. Love it or hate it, let me know what you think! It's the only way writers improve.**


	4. Moms: Dazed and Confused

Hyde Living Room

1972

Hyde and Kelso lounged on the gritty sofa, bits of cotton puffing out from the scratches on the arms and in the seats, but neither of them noticed them. Led Zeppelin's _Dazed and Confused _resounded throughout the tiny house, and two teenage boys who thought their voices were more professional than they actually were belted out the lyrics with a reckless abandon.

_Been dazed and confused for so long it__'s not true,  
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.  
Lots of people talk and few of them know,  
Soul of a woman was created below. Yeah!_

The guitars practically screamed in mourning for whatever love Robert Plant or whichever one of them had felt for the lying banshee, now a distorted, psychedelic, and, Hyde had to admit, erotic mess.

"This is the best six-minute song ever!" Kelso shouted over the music, interrupting a long series of moans, as if the woman in the song transformed into the music itself, torturing the poor guy, each screech of the guitar a knife plunging into his heart.

"I know!" Hyde shouted back. It was fun to listen to it stoned, but here, completely lucid, he could absorb the music, really feel the genius behind it. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the sofa and imagined what it would be like to have a girl torture him with music.

"Steven!"

"Hey, Mom."

"Will you turn that shit down?" Flinging her coat onto the floor, Edna held a squatty bottle with a paper bag wrapped around it. Wobbling over to the sofa, she stood over him, her eyelids heavy. "It's three in the morning and I could hear that crap a mile away!"

"It's eleven o'clock, Mom, and nobody's complained."

"Shut up! I'm complaining. You know what everybody says about their music and here you go blaring it like you and your stupid friend here are deaf!"

"I'll have you know I finally learned "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on the recorder, which is more than you've played on it!" Kelso snapped back. "So next time watch who you call stupid."

"Mom, sorry. I'll turn it off." Hyde stood, stretching his arms, the long white long-underwear shirt that had belonged to his dad masked whatever shape his arms had, leaving only a soft white blob over his curly hair. He paced himself, making sure the two steps it took to reach the record player took a minute each.

_Sweet little baby, I don__'t know where you've been,  
Gonna love you baby, here I come again._

"Steven! I said turn that shit off, or I'm gonna pop you one!" Edna screamed at him, her free hand massaging her temple. "No guy's going to want to come over and be in the mood with Led Zeppelin filling up the place!"

"Oh, gee. I'm sorry I ruined your whoring. Come on, Kelso. Let's go to my room."

It wasn't hard, the drunken slap across his face, but when combined with the motion of turning, Hyde stumbled back, the back of his legs almost hitting Kelso's. The back of his hand flew up to his cheek, warm, but not stinging from the blow. Gritting his teeth, he straightened out his body and gestured Kelso to follow him.

"Don't you walk away from me! You ungrateful fuck! You're just like Bud, you know that? Just an ass that has to get up in everybody's face!" She gripped his shoulders and proceeded to shake him, halfway using his body just to balance herself. "I'm out all day and come back to that shitty rock and roll you play on my record player? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He sucked on the inside of his cheek to keep from lurching back and breaking her nose, his breathing uneven. About to scream back at her with a possessed, uncontrollable voice, he saw Kelso reach up off the sofa and squeeze Edna's breasts, cupping them, churning them like orange juice would ooze out of them.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked after blinking at him and the wall behind him for what seemed to Hyde to be an eternity.

"So you got something in your room, Hyde?"

Hyde couldn't speak, and looking at his speechless mother made him even more speechless, if that was possible. Her drunk, shocked face finally turned away from his as she staggered into the bathroom.

"Hey, man," he said, closing the door behind him when they entered his room. "What were you…"

"Oh. I don't know. Had to shut her up somehow."

"What?"

"I…I didn't like what she was saying to you, so I had to shut her up." Kelso paused, his jaw still dropped open from what he just did. "They felt weird, man, not like Lindsey Snyder's at all. They felt all…tissue-y."

"Hey, don't sweat it, man," was all Hyde could say, touched. "I'll say one thing—that definitely took the focus off of me." Summoning back his Zen, he added, "What a loser, copping a feel from my mom."

"Hey, even if you don't count that, I still get way more feels than you do!" He pounced on Hyde and the two rolled around on his crumb-covered floor, laughing and grunting from the punches, a few of the lyrics still lingering in his mind.

_Try to love you baby, but you push me away.  
Don__'t know where you're goin'  
Only know just where you've been_

* * *

**A/N: Aw, poor Hyde. Obviously, we are not through Part 1 yet, so be patient and you will get more and more vignettes, leading all the way up to the biggest year of all for our gang: 1981.**


	5. Moms: Toys in the Attic

Forman House

1975

Eric tossed and turned in bed, ramming his forehead into his pillow. For that one hour, that one hour between five and six o'clock, he had hated his mother.

_"Eric, sweetie, I'm so sorry but the hospital needs me to come down and help out. I don't know what time I'll be back."_

_"No! Mom, my last day of school dinner." His voice cracked, his hand hovering over an empty plate. There was no smell emitting from the kitchen, no hardened frosting on any of the pans in the sink, not even a random balloon bobbing along somewhere._

_"Eric, I can't help it. I'll be back as soon as I can. If your father beats me home, just tell him where I am."_

_"Don't you even have time to hear about how my day went?"_

Alone on the first night of the summer, he gripped the corner of his sheet, hating the fact he had hated his mother, hating the fact he was such a spoiled, babyish little boy who couldn't just suck it up and act like a man. Hyde never got anything at all unless it was from Red and Kitty and the gang and he never complained about it, at least not in front of anyone. He and the rest of his friends made it a point to see him at school, and Donna walked home with him as always, presenting him with Aerosmith's latest album.

_"Donna, this is so great," he said, tracing the band's logo on their _Toys in the Attic _album. "You didn't have to get me anything. It's your last day of school, too."_

_"Yeah, well…" she shrugged. "It's a special day for all of us, Eric. Plus, you worked really hard and you deserve a little something every now and then."_

He could have kissed her. After years of wanting to, after years of imagining what it would be like, he could have kissed her then and there. Giving him a no-reason gift, a just-because gift? It made his heart pound and certain parts beneath that harden.

_In the attic lies  
Voices scream  
Nothings seen  
Real's a dream_

_Leaving the things that are real behind  
Leaving the things that you love from mind  
All of the things you learned from fears  
Nothing is left for the years_

Sighing at how immature he was, he instead fantasized about how to do something for her one of these days, something unexpected and for no reason other than the fact that she was the only girl in the world for him. Maybe one day, he could cut class and rent one of those little window-washing platforms the skyscrapers used, hoisting it down until he reached the third floor of their high school where he knew she had her biology class, her least favorite class and therefore the best one to interrupt. Dressed in just overalls with no shirt…he would have to work out a little more before he could pull this off, he thought…he would kick the window open and burst into song, a spotlight out of nowhere radiating down on him.

"Yeah, I know it's kind of late/I hope I didn't wake you/But there's something that/ I just got to say/I know you'd understand/Ev'ry time I tried to tell you/The words just came out wrong/ So I'll have to say I love you in a song."

"Oh Eric!" she would cry out, knocking her chair over on the way over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and smothering his face in her hair and kisses.

"Eric?"

Turning onto his back, he saw a figure in his doorway, too short to be Donna and too nonthreatening to be Red. Mom.

"Are you awake, honey?"

"Yeah." He sat up, knowing his eyes were icier than he wanted them to be. For all the times she embarrassed him, he had never really been angry with her, not in his entire life, until tonight.

"I was hoping you were awake. I thought I could hear about your last day." She patted his knee and pulled his chair up next to the bed. Her hands folded in her lap, her nurse uniform sweaty and disheveled, apparent even in the dark, she waited for him to speak. Switching his lamp on, he shuddered at the guilty expression on her face.

"Mom, I'm sorry about earlier. You had to work. You didn't miss anything because you wanted to."

"Oh." She blushed, her cheeks puffing, preparing for a good cry. "Oh, sweetheart, I wanted to hear about your last day! It was such a big year for you! I saw you carrying an album in with you. Was that a prize for something?"

"Uh, no, it was a present from Donna."

"From Donna? Whoa. You know what that means." Her knuckles hit his arm.

"No, I really don't."

"That means she likes you."

"No, no, it's just that she's my best friend and you have to think of something for me to get her on the first day of school this coming year so I don't look like a complete idiot."

Kitty threw her head back and laughed, holding Eric's hand.

* * *

Summer also meant Laurie, Eric thought, finishing every scrap of chips left in the bag. Once that devil arrived, the chips in the house would be gone, his stashes would disappear, and his friends would complain of needing a scalding shower after just looking at her.

"Don't inhale your food, Eric," Red said, not looking up from his sandwich.

"Daddy!"

That shrill, bloodsucking voice pierced Eric's eardrums. Covering his ears, he could only see Laurie in cutoffs and a large university sweatshirt tear through the door and race to Red, kissing him on the cheek and the top of his bald head.

"There you are, Laurie! We were expecting you last night."

"Dad, everyone expects her to come at night. We're just the last of a very long line."

"Daddy, I missed you so much!" she said, sitting on his lap and ignoring Eric's comment. "School was fantastic this year! My Algebra 101 professor looked exactly like you!"

"So then you've slept with everyone in the school minus one. Hey! I know as much math as Laurie!"

"Can it, Eric!" Red wagged his finger at him. "Let's all be happy your sister is home and we can put you to work."

"Did I hear Laurie come in?" Kitty stroked a bit of Laurie's hair, but Eric noticed no kiss, no hug, no teeth showing as the result of a grin. "Here's a sandwich for you."

"Daddy, some girlfriends and I were going to hit the movies tonight. Could I borrow some money?"

"Sure! How much does it cost to see a movie?"

"Thirty bucks."

"Absolutely not!" Kitty said, dropping her plate onto the table. She took her seat and shook her head at Laurie. "What on earth do you need thirty dollars for?"

"Oh, just gas and tickets and snacks and repaying some of my friends for paying my way in back at college." She batted her eyes at Red, resting her chin on her knuckles. "Please, Daddy? I know exactly how to pay you back."

Eric suddenly remembered he had about thirty dollars rolled into one of his socks in his dresser.

"Oh, if it's just this once, I don't see a problem." Red reached into his back pocket and opened his wallet.

"Red."

"Kitty, it's her first day back at home. She misses her girlfriends. You had girlfriends once." He kissed her and picked the car keys up off the counter. "Well, I'm off to work. I'll be back this afternoon. Glad to have you home, sweetheart. And you," he said, glaring at Eric. "I've asked you a hundred times to wax that car and today, you're gonna do it, or so help me, it'll be my foot in your ass."

"Okay, Eric, I'm taking the Vista Cruiser, so don't expect any rides today," Laurie said, leaving her untouched food on her plate.

"Where are you going now?" Kitty asked.

"Jeez, Mom, I'm back for all of two seconds and you start grilling me? I'm not one of Eric's delinquent friends."

"I know that. Where are you going?" Kitty stood and placed her arm on the back door.

"You know, Mom, when I was back over Christmas break, I saw Eric and Hyde tiptoeing out of the comic book store…each with a funny-smelling paper bag."

"Don't change the subject, Laurie. Your father's not here. You need to tell me where you plan on going."

"Fine! I'm running up to Kenosha for the day to see a friend, happy?"

"Her only Kenosha friends are men friends, Mom!" Eric blurted out, standing up and pointing right at Laurie. Taking the Vista Cruiser keys, he pulled the waistline of his jeans and tucked the keys inside between them and his boxers.

"Eeeewww!" Laurie shrieked, stomping up the stairs, the footsteps from above and the subsequent slam indicating she was now in her room.

"Wow," Eric breathed. "That worked." The movement of his mother picking up Laurie's plate woke him from his shock, especially the tears welling up in her eyes. "Mom? Hey, she's just a bitch. It's nothing personal. You're a great mom."

"Eric, she is not a…a…she's just…" she stammered, tossing the sandwich into the trash before kissing his forehead. "Thank you."

_Leaving the things that are real behind  
Leaving the things that you love from mind  
All of the things you learned from fears  
Nothing is left for the years_

Voices scream  
Nothings seen  
Real's a dream

Waiting on the couch in the basement for Donna and the rest of his friends to come over, Eric folded his arms and sat a little straighter. This year, this summer would be different. No. From now, things would be different. He wouldn't take Laurie's crap. He would show Red whatever it was that Donna saw in him that made her buy him the greatest Aerosmith album in history. Yep. Starting this summer, he would work on making that car his, on making Donna his, on making the whole wide world his, starting today, in this little basement.

**A/N: Just one more little disclaimer that I also do not own the songs I use. The song in Eric's fantasy sequence is Jim Croce's "I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song." Jackie's mom story will be up very soon. Please leave reviews and tell me what you think!**


	6. Moms: I've Been Waiting For You

Point Place Downtown Mall

1974

_I, I've been in love before  
I thought I would no more  
Manage to hit the ceiling  
Still, strange as it seems to me  
You brought it back to me  
That old feeling_

Jackie squealed in the fitting room, Agnetha Faltskog's angelic voice playing over her head, joined by Anni-Frid Lyngstad, not quite as pretty as Agnetha, but she made up for it with her voice. Wiggling her way up to the turtleneck to pop her head out of the collar, she could hear another voice outside the door singing along to the joyous, upbeat song.

Turning to the side to glance in the mirror, she smiled at herself, and then pouted out her lower lip and narrowed her eyebrows, practicing her model face. The turtleneck showed off her waist, downplayed her small breasts, and even made her look a little taller, all things Pam Burkhart would be sure to notice once she opened the shutter-like door behind her.

"Oh, Jackie! You look so pretty!" Pam clapped her hands and jumped, fingering the soft fabric of the shirt. "The red doesn't bring out your eyes like some other colors, but, honey, your skin! It's never looked creamier."

"So I can get it?"

"Of course!" Pam rifled through her handbag for one of her credit cards. "It even matches that skirt you have on. It's so wonderful you inherited my fashion sense. When you were little, I just thought you would only have your father's black hair." She stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise before she produced her card. "All right. Ready to go?"

They picked up their shopping bags and headed for the check-out, their strides and pace leaving the other shoppers in the dust. When a woman goes shopping as often as we do, Jackie thought, you learn how to walk fast in the best shoes money can buy. A few shoppers in front of them, they set down their bags and waited, a handful of shirts, pants, and dresses draped over their arms.

"I just love shopping," Pam sighed. "And I just love this song."

_You thrill me, you delight me  
You please me, you excite me  
You're something I'd been pleading for  
I love you, I adore you  
I lay my life before you  
I'll have you want me more and more  
And finally it seems my lonely days are through  
I've been waiting for you_

Jackie sang along with her, imitating the gorgeous expressions on Agnetha's face when she sang on _Saturday Night Live _the other night, so peaceful, so mellow.

_I, I'm gonna make you mine  
You're gonna feel so fine  
You'll never want to leave me  
I feel you belong to me  
Someday you will agree  
Please, believe me_

At last, the old lady in front of them told the cashier to also have a good day, and Pam and Jackie raced to the counter, the toes of Jackie's shoes scraping against the heels of the elderly lady.

"Finally," Pam said, hoisting the items onto the counter. "That was quite a crowd."

"Yes, we're awfully busy today," the cashier said. Jackie saw the nametag read Stacie. She repeated it to herself about a dozen times, attempting to taste, to smell the name, and if it would go well with the last name Kelso. Would it sound right if someone called her maid one day and, in a broken form of English, the answer was, "I'm sorry, but Jackie and Stacie are out shopping for the day?"

"Well, you do have a lot of things on sale," Pam answered Stacie. "You have to expect the poor to just come in droves!"

"Right," Stacie muttered, ringing up the last item, a lilac long-sleeved shirt for Jackie, thick enough to be a helpful layer to a sweater in the winter, and thin enough to be part of a relaxed business-casual ensemble in the summer, or it could even go with jeans. "That'll be 345.96."

"Just charge it," Pam said, handing her the credit card, winking at Jackie. Jackie winked back, knowing this was the big blow-out before her mother's trip to Paris next week. Jackie begged and begged her to let her come with her, but no, this was an adults-only trip.

"Mom, you have to wear those hoop earrings with the rubies with that dress when you're in Paris. They go together so well!"

"They do, don't they? My little girl has a good eye!"

They climbed into either side of the Lincoln and backed out of their front-row spot.

"Jackie, I just want to warn you that the other cheerleaders at practice might tease you for wearing a turtleneck, but it looks fabulous on you, so don't listen."

"I know it does, so why would they tease me?"

"Oh, it's just that you're not as developed yet as some of them, but it's okay. Lots of boys prefer skinny girls. I'm sure Michael Kelso does."

"Well…" Jackie trailed off, never knowing how to respond when Pam mentioned boys at school. "There'll still be plenty of games when you get back from Paris. You can see them all there. Ooh! We can gossip about them together! It'll be so great. You'll finally get to know why Carrie hasn't had a boyfriend in, like, forever, and Gina just got a second hole in each of her earlobes, which I didn't like at first, but now I really do…"

"Sure, honey." Pam nodded, turning the knob of the radio. "Aaauuggh! How lucky are we?"

The same ABBA song from the mall now played on the station, wiping away any negative thoughts running through Jackie's head. The optimism of those voices just wouldn't tolerate anything other than pure bubbly bliss. Snapping her fingers, she escaped into the song, even drowning out her mother's voice singing with her own.

_You thrill me, you delight me  
You please me, you excite me  
You're something I'd been pleading for  
I love you, I adore you  
I lay my life before you  
I'll have you want me more and more  
And finally it seems my lonely days are through  
I've been waiting for you  
Oh, I've been waiting for you_


	7. Dads: Mockingbird

Pinciotti Living Room

1975

Donna's crossed ankles rested on the arm of the couch, all three cushions now required to accommodate her tall frame. In the middle of her book, she failed to hear her parents come through the kitchen door, standing right over her.

"Honey, your father has an announcement to make."

"That's right, honey," Bob said, taking the book out of Donna's hands and laying it flat on the coffee table, her last read page not even marked. "I signed you and me up for the talent show."

A stream of laughter provided the only sound in the room, baffling Bob and Midge.

"Dad, you're kidding, right?" She blinked. "Why aren't you nodding your head that you're kidding?"

"Donna, it's time to face facts," Midge said, tapping Donna's legs, gesturing for her to make room for her on the couch. "You're becoming a woman, and it's around this age that a girl starts to feel alienated from her father. I saw it on _Donahue. _This is the best way for you two to bond. You'll have to practice and put petroleum jelly on."

"Midge, this ain't a swimsuit competition. What do you think, pumpkin? You and me, up on stage, in front of your whole school? I bet ya Red and Eric don't have anything planned!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't contest that," she said. "Question—just what did you have planned for our talent?"

"Well," Bob said, clapping his hands together. "I started going through your records in your room…"

"You went through my records?"  
"And I saw you're a big Carly Simon fan, and, if you ask me, there's no better song out there than…_Mockingbird_!"

Donna's head whirled, a kaleidoscope of images swirled through her mind—her dad tripping while they made their entrance, her dad applying a sweat rag to his forehead like Elvis, her dad dressed as Elvis, her dad dressed like James Taylor. Placing her hands on her temples, she shook her head.

"Okay, I don't know why Mom put you up to this, but I think we bond just fine. You don't have to knock yourself out rehearsing a song with me."

"Oh, but, Donna, _Mockingbird_ is such an easy song to sing!" Midge's voice cracked at the last word before she crouched and curled her fingers around an invisible microphone. "Mock."

"Yeah," Bob belted out, his torso twisting in a beat only he knew.

"Ing."

"Yeah."

"Bird."

"Yeah."

"Okay, okay!" Donna stood, her arms folded. "I get it! I'll see you guys later."

"But shouldn't we practice? It took me two hours to learn what came after all those yeahs!"

"In a second!" She took her jacket off the hook and threw open the door. "I left my history book over at Eric's."

"But I thought I saw it when I was in your room!"

"My math book then!"

* * *

In the basement of the Forman house, her Lost Boys, as usual, sat in their Circle, cackling like a pack of hyenas at whatever the hell the kid they only called Fez just said.

"Wake up, you dillholes! I got a freakin' problem!" Smacking the back of each of their heads, she made a full circle before collapsing onto the worn couch, battered and marred from countless scuffles and shoe marks.

"What's your problem, Big D?"

"Kelso, just because I'm taller than that stupid little number I saw you kissing today doesn't entitle me to the name 'Big D.'" She sighed, deciding to drop it. "I just got the worst news."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Eric moaned, waving his hands around, his bloodshot eyes darting from her, to the ceiling, back to Fez, and then to Kelso. "Kissing a stupid little number? You didn't go on a second date with Jackie Burkhart, did you?"

"Yep." Kelso cracked his knuckles before interlocking his fingers and resting them against the back of his head. "She and I got a connection."

"What connection could that be, besides the gross one Donna just mentioned?" Hyde asked, the first to rise from the Circle and sit in his usual place, a beaten-up chair Donna heard Mr. and Mrs. Forman nagging each other about getting rid of for the last three years.

"Hey, will everyone just lighten up? She's a cheerleader, which means my love life is about to take an Eleanor Rigby, if you know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean," Fez said.

"Yeah, neither do I," Donna added. At least she could always count on being distracted when she came here.

"Like the song _Eleanor Rigby. _Doesn't anyone listen to the Beatles anymore? God!"

"You moron, what do you think _Eleanor Rigby_'s about?" Hyde glared at him through his sunglasses.

"Well, you know, 'Eleanor Rigby/picks up the spice/like it was/when her wedding had been.'"

"Well, I'm not one to argue with the classics." Eric rolled his eyes and sat next to Donna, well, not next to her, she noted, seeing that you could fit a Fez in between them. Remembering back when they were nine and taking turns sitting on each other's lap during what was probably their ninth viewing of _It's a Wonderful Life_, she wondered what had happened between them to make him so allergic to her. "What's the bad news?"

"My dad wants me to sing _Mockingbird _in the talent show with him."

"Man, you're screwed," Hyde said, a smirk running along his face. "Unless you had the balls to say no."

"She can't have balls, Hyde, or else we'd all be queer."

"Shut up, Kelso! Guys, what am I gonna do? It'll crush him if I back out, but the upside to that is not performing on a stage with my dad! If I know I can't sing, that's one thing, but somewhere between his birth and now, someone got it in his head that he could sing, and that sucks!"

"That's a real dilemma, Donna," Kelso said, standing up and putting on his jacket. "Tell me what you come up with, 'cuz I have to go pick up Jackie. See you guys later."

"Wait, you're ditching us for Jackie Burkhart?"

"Just bring her over here and she can sit in the corner!"

"When did you plan on telling us you were dating her, anyway?"

"May I touch her boobs?"

"No, Fez!" Kelso shouted, visibly dizzy from the barrage of questions. "Guys, she's my girlfriend now and if that means spending some time with her so we can make out more, then that's just a risk I'm gonna have to take!"

"Well," she said, waiting for the door to slam behind him. "That's one idiot gone. Focus here, guys. What am I gonna do?"

"Donna," Eric began, his bottom lip twitching, trying to form a word before he threw up his hands. "You may just have to take one for the Pinciotti team."

"That's your answer?"

"Yeah, gotta say, that's my answer, too," Hyde said. "You most definitely will be humiliated for three minutes in front of everyone you know, but if you don't do it, every time you go home and want to do something, Bob'll just go, 'Huh, well, Donna, you didn't sing with me in the talent show, so why should I do something for you?' You have to ask yourself which is worse."

"Fine. You guys are coming over and helping me sing." Reaching for Eric's hand, she nearly lifted him off the couch. "Hyde. Fez. If I have to sing my least favorite Carly Simon song, I get to at least hear you losers sing it, too."

* * *

"Let's take it from the top, people!" Fez clapped his hands above his head, adjusting the needle of the record player. "Donna, your singing must come from your chest, from the diaphragm. Hee hee, diaphragm. Right there." He placed a quivering hand over her diaphragm, inching its way up to her breast.

"You want your ass kicked?"

"I am sorry. But if you stand straighter and feel the muscles down there contract, it will sound less like frogs dying. And, you two!" He shot a dagger-filled stare at Hyde and Eric, sitting on Donna's bed, snickering at his failed attempt to cop a feel. "Put some soul into it! This lady wants you to know her man is going to find her some peace of mind, and if that peace of mind won't stay, she gonna find herself a better way."

The intro to the song now burned into her memory where fractions and stories starring Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail once resided, safe in a filing cabinet, ready to pull out at a moment's notice, Donna tapped her foot to the beat, straightened her back, and blasted out the first word.

"Mock."

"Yeah," Hyde and Eric mumbled.

"Louder!" Fez commanded.

"Ing."

"Yeah."

"Oh, I love this song!" a shrill voice cooed behind her. A petite brunette in the high school cheerleader uniform applauded from the doorway. "Are you doing that in the talent show coming up? Donna, right?"

"Right. Hi, Jackie…" Donna sighed, knowing from the moment Kelso asked her on a date that this moment would come when the newest girlfriend would have to "meet and greet the gang." Well, they had managed to scare off Mallory Davies. Jackie Burkhart should be a cinch. "You probably don't remember me."

"Donna," Jackie said, entering her room and sitting on the bed with the others like she knew them, or had been invited. "It's hard to forget a seven-foot tall redhead. Are you guys going to be in it, too?"

"Nooo," Eric drew out, edging away from her, about to knock Hyde into the pillows. "Is Kelso somewhere behind you? Like, in this house?"

"No. He said to wait for him in your basement, and since you weren't there, your dad said you would be over here and told me to get lost, so I'll just wait for Michael here!" She peered all around Donna's room, pausing at the opened closet, before turning back to her. "You don't have to stop. Carly Simon is so beautiful. I just love her voice. Keep practicing!"

"Ooh, I like being ordered by you," Fez finally said, never once taking his eyes off the chatty little thing Donna felt that she could crush with one strategic step. "Let's skip the 'yeahs' and get into the verses."

_Everybody have you heard  
He's gonna buy me a mockingbird  
And if that mockingbird don't sing  
He's gonna buy me a __diamond ring__  
And if that __diamond ring__ won't shine  
He's gonna surely break this heart of mine  
And that's why I keep on tellin' everybody_

"That was very good, Donna," Fez said, lifting the needle off the player. "But where is the soul? Where is the love? This woman is in love, but she's so insecure about it! It's a cry for help to the world!"

"Funny. I was thinking of crying out for help," Hyde muttered.

"Yeah, Fez, Donna, our services are no longer required. Can we go?"

"Eric! You said you'd help out."

"Yes, but, you have Fez and now Jackie's here," he said, propping his hands on her shoulders to lift himself off the bed. "The three of you can handle things here, I think. Let's go, Hyde."

"Oh, if you guys are going back to the basement, I'll just come with you and wait for Michael there!" Jackie leapt off of the bed.

Hyde and Eric stared at her, then stared at each other, communicating in a series of eye movements and frowns how to handle the situation. Before they could come to a unanimous decision, however, Bob bumped them with the door on his way inside.

"Don't mind me. I just heard you practicing, pumpkin. Isn't this exciting? Hi, boys. I don't think I've met you." He extended his hand to Jackie.

"Jackie Burkhart."

"Bob Pinciotti. Donna, you didn't tell me you made a girlfriend!"

"Dad, she's…"

"You know, Jackie, my little Donna's been hanging out with boys her whole life, and now she finally has a girlfriend to do girl things with!" He patted Jackie's back and beamed at Donna. "I'm going to bring you kids some cookies! Sit down, boys. Snacks are on their way."

"We were just leaving, Mr. Pinciotti," Eric said, gazing at the hallway like a recently sentenced prisoner.

"Aw, you don't have to do that! You kids are so great helping Donna practice like this! I know the first time I sang in front of people, I had the bejeezus scared out of me. Turns out, they all laughed, too. Still hurts. But here you all are, excited for her! Sit back down!" He bulldozed Hyde, Eric, and Jackie back onto the bed and shuffled out the door. "I'll be right back with those cookies."

"I'm in hell!" Hyde screamed, throwing himself down into Donna's pillows.

"You are?" Donna lunged at him and slapped his chest. "My dad just gave out a monologue about how much he loved all of you even though you're all a bunch of jerks and I don't even know you!" she shouted at Jackie. "Now, he thinks you're all supportive and I think you're all being supportive, too, so start acting supportive, damn it! Mock. I said 'mock!'"

"Ing."

* * *

Donna peeked into the crowd from behind the curtain. The school theater reserved for the winter musical and the spring production of _Romeo and Juliet _wasn't packed, but enough parents and siblings and students waiting to get their ticket stamped by the coordinator to receive their extra credit sat in the red velvet seats to cause Donna's face to pale. Fez's tutelage paid off, for her, anyway, and Kelso's little girlfriend even made up a cheer to encourage her. Reciting it to herself, she shook her head in disbelief at how effective it was. "Kicking ass and taking names/Who's gonna sing Carly and James?/Donna/Donna/Yay, Donna!"

"Ready to go, pumpkin?"

She jerked at the tap to her shoulder, her dad in a black leisure suit, matching her black slacks. Opting for a white blouse Eric said reminded him of a pirate, she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows.

"I think so. Hey, Dad, when you were saying that the first time you sang, the kids laughed at you, was that a real story?"

"Oh yeah. It was back in glee club. I got picked out for a solo in _America the Beautiful _right when my voice was changing. Kids can be so cruel."

"So if it still hurts, why'd you sign us up?"

"Because you're my daughter and I don't want you to feel alienated from me."

Donna exhaled, her heart rate slowing. The spotlights hazed into a subtle, autumn orange.

"It's gonna be okay, honey. Just picture the audience naked."

Laughing too loudly to hear the announcer call out the Pinciotti name, she and her father ran out like Sonny and Cher, glittering microphones in hand. The intro she knew like she knew the first line of _Little Women_, she tapped her feet and rocked her hips back and forth, knowing at least five people in the audience who wouldn't care if she looked ridiculous.

Say yeah, yeah whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, uh, oh

**A/N: Thanks for reviewing! Remember I do not own this show or the characters. A lot would have been different if I did. Please let me know how I'm doing, and more of the next section will be up soon.**


	8. Dads: Beth

Point Place Hospital

1979

Kelso charged down the white sterilized corridor, ducking his head into every room searching for Brooke. What if she was screaming? What if she wasn't? What if she was all alone? Nah, that couldn't happen. He didn't know what water breaking felt like, but when his dad made him take Phillip to baseball practice one afternoon a long time ago, the kid wet his pants, and Kelso couldn't imagine sitting in wet pants and driving at the same time.

"Michael! Michael, we're in here!"

"I figured it would be the last room," he said, angling the chair next to the bed to allow himself to slip into it. He took her clammy hand. "Are you doing okay?"

"It's okay, Michael. They gave me some medication and…" A sharp, piercing cry erupted from her. Her limp hand suddenly clenched his own, her fingernails digging moon-shaped craters into his. Wincing, he pried her hand off of him and petted a soft lock of her hair. "Maybe you can get them to come back in with some more of it?"

"Don't let her try to trick you," Carolyn said. Kelso hadn't even noticed her mother had been standing over the other side of the bed. "The doctor said she couldn't have anymore for a while."

"Okay, Brooke? I know you're a lot smarter than me, but today's really not a good day to try to trick me."

Hours went by, and Kelso wished they passed like they did on TV, the minute hand somewhere and then fading away only to reappear on a new place on the clock face. It was what had allowed Mannix to solve the most difficult crimes ever in just under an hour. One of the nurses brought in a radio, Ted Nugent filling up the tiny room already overcrowded with himself, Brooke, Carolyn, and the nurse in it. Every once in a while, he would hear someone comfort Brooke with the words, "only five." But it didn't seem to work, Brooke bursting into tears after each time.

"Hey, Margaret," he said, glancing down at the flat-chested nurse's nametag. "I'm the father here. Is there anything I can do to help? One time, my buddies and me got a watch stuck in the sewer drain and we pulled that out, and one of my buddies' moms is a nurse and she said having a baby was kind of like squeezing that watch out, so maybe I could reach my hand in or something?"

Behind her thick glasses, terrified eyes examined him.

"That's okay. What comforts a lot of women is walking around. The gravity helps and it relieves the stress. Just go slow with her, and stay on this floor. If it starts to be too painful for her, have her come back in."

"You hear that, Brooke? You want to go for a walk?"

She raised her arms and waited for him to take them and pull her out of the bed. Taking baby steps to the door where the hospital supplied her with pink fuzzy slippers, Kelso marveled at her body, still so beautiful even though she had gotten so fat. He didn't know how her legs supported that weight right above them. "Damn, you look hot."

"Don't tease me right now, Michael," she whispered in a breathy voice, not looking at him, all her attention on the path in front of her.

"I'm not. You look beautiful."

Smiling at him, she took his arm and let him steer her down the bland hallway, Carolyn allowing them to be alone. Taking baby steps, Brooke moved the entire time, while Kelso usually had to stand in place to make sure she stayed next to him.

"This was a wonderful idea. I feel so much better. I'm glad you're here." Leaning in, her lips pressed together, they suddenly tensed into a lopsided frown, her chin wrinkling. "I think we need to go back." Her grip on his arm tightening, he pushed it through her until it could reach around her and hold her waist. His heart pounding at the possibility of doing something wrong, he opened the door and acted the part of a cane until she was back on top of the damp sheets.

Minutes later, a stumpy, swarthy little man Kelso would have mistook for Columbo had he been at the Hub or anywhere else shuffled in, nodding at Brooke.

"Congratulations."

"I'm up to ten?" she gasped, a guarded smile below the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of her face. Kelso always thought she had been a ten, but maybe he was missing something. Yeah, he was definitely missing something seeing as how she had scooted her body up until her back lay straight against the pillows, really, really wanting that ten.

"No, but we're about to have that baby out sooner than expected. You've stopped dilating."

"Is there anything you can do?" Carolyn asked, her painted nails perched on Brooke's shoulder, a look of fear on her face.

"We're going to have to do a C-section."

"Oh my God," Carolyn gasped, the color draining from her. "Isn't there anything else you can do?"

"Sorry. Your labor's not progressing the way it should be. Nothing's wrong. It just happens sometimes." The doctor turned to Kelso and said, "There are scrubs in the next room and a mask for you. We'll have Margaret go with you and she'll bring you to the delivery room."

"Brooke's not gonna have the baby here?"

"I'm going to be alone?"

"Dr. Manetti…"

"One at a time," Dr. Manetti said, holding up his hands. "Brooke, we're just going to wheel you down to the end of the hall. Your um…this…he…" he finally said, gesturing at Kelso, "will be there in just a few minutes and your mother will be right outside. These things do happen quite often. It's nothing to panic over. You're doing very well."

"Obviously not if I'm not progressing in my labor!" Her face crumpled, turning her pinker than a radish. Lifting her legs and slamming them back onto the bed, she let out a low whimper.

"Honey, all it means is a longer stay in the hospital. The baby's going to be fine. You're going to be fine." Carolyn rubbed her daughter's forehead, still whiter than a sheet, but her rouge and lipstick compensated for the loss of color. "And," she gulped. "Michael will be in there with you."

"Yeah, Brooke. I'm going to be in there with you. Where's that Margaret chick?" Turning his head from side to side, he found her crooking her finger at him, beckoning him to the hallway. Following her out, she handed him a slick set of scrubs.

"We'll get you your mask in just a second. What'll happen when you get in there is she'll have a blanket between her upper body and her lower body. We don't like for the mothers to see. You'll have to stand next to her, so if you don't want to see a C-section, you'll want to duck down. You're so tall." Helping him pull what he assumed was a shower cap over his hair, she stood on her tiptoes. "Just keep doing what you were doing earlier, just encouraging her and staying calm."

"So there's a chance I'm going to see some stuff?" He bit his lip, not sure if he could keep calm if he saw a baby come out of Brooke. He didn't know what it would look like, but there had to be some blood and some guts involved, which was cool when it was _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ or _Halloween_, but…this was his baby covered in blood and crap…what if it was so slippery they dropped it when it came out? "Hey, hey, I don't know what to do when I get in there."

"You're panicking now?" Margaret stifled a laugh. "Are you slow or something? Just come on." Dragging him by the hand into the delivery room, he spotted Brooke, lying on a slab in the center, her hair cascading over the side, still whimpering.

"At least they didn't give you a shower cap," he said through the mask down to her. A little laugh managed to squeak out between the cries.

"Michael, I'm scared."

You and me both, he wanted to say, but bit his tongue. Literally. Recoiling at the sudden pain, he clasped Brooke's hand, which was clamping down on him. Their eyes locked, and Kelso never saw so much fear in his life. Wiping her long hair from her forehead with his free hand, he didn't know what he could say to make her less afraid. He didn't even really know what it was that was about to happen to her.

"I'm back!" Dr. Manetti announced, his own shower cap and mask donned. "I'm going to be on the other side of the curtain, okay, Brooke? You're going to feel a little bit of pressure down on your ab muscles, but compared to your contractions, it won't hurt a bit."

"Comparatively," she repeated, giving out a sharp, short laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Absolutely nothing." She squeezed his hand harder. "Don't leave me."

He shook his head wildly, ducking down like Margaret had told him, concentrating on only Brooke's face, her eyebrows perking up and her mouth dropping open in surprise at something the doctors must have been doing to her. A sharp grunt followed her change in expression, but Kelso kept holding her hand. He didn't want to see the blood. He didn't want to see the chainsaw or hacksaw or whatever the hell they used to get the baby out.

At last, a screeching cry hit his ears. Brooke lifted her head up, only to drop it back down onto the slab with a thud.

With blue gowns and caps surrounding it, Kelso tried to make out his baby, shrieking at the top of its lungs in the corner, but all he could see was a flash of pink here and there. Wanting to go push them all away to make room for him, he felt Brooke's fingers spread, washing over his wrist. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling. Her mouth moved, formulating words, but no voice came out, much to Kelso's confusion.

"What?"

"Is it okay?"

"It's a girl!" Dr. Mannetti answered, leaning down over the slab. "She's just fine. We're going to take her up to the nursery. The father can come, too. I'm sorry, Brooke. You have to stay down here to recover, but we'll bring her down to you. I promise. She's fine. She's just fine."

A girl. He had a daughter. Wow. Bending down, he kissed Brooke's dry lips.

"We have a little girl," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah. Hey, I'm just going to go where they tell me, but as soon as they let me, I'm gonna bring her down to you and you can go home with her."

"I don't think it works that way," she sighed, but didn't seem worried about him leaving her side now. Outside, he threw the scrubs over his head only to see Carolyn's anxious face burning into him.

"It's a little girl!" he screamed it out, but once she threw her arms around him, he felt all his energy leave his body. A little girl. His little girl. What would he do with her? She'd get a period someday and he would have no idea where to begin to explain that. Someday some boy would want to date her and fondle her boobs. Oh, Lord, she would have boobs. Feeling his knees buckle, he crashed into a chair out in the waiting room.

"Michael? You look like you're about to faint." Carolyn leaned over him, giving his cheek a series of gentle slaps. "I have a granddaughter! Isn't that wonderful? You have a daughter."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do!" Well, when you put it that way, having a kid that would eventually grow boobs didn't sound bad at all. "You got a camera or something? I'm gonna go take some pictures of her."

XXX

Fifteen minutes before he would have to leave, Kelso rocked back and forth in the rocking chair in Brooke's room. He envied her setup—TV, bathroom all to herself, and a bed that could go as flat as a board or prop her feet up like a footstool if she played with the button just right. Yeah, something about being here, rocking his little girl in his arms…it just felt right. Brooke passed out not too long ago, adamant about no one holding the baby for as long as she was awake.

That penetrating cry broke him from his thoughts, the crumpled, red face below him bellowing like a baby. Ha, now that made sense.

"Sh, it's okay, little girl. It's okay." His bent arms lifted, and went back down, lifted, and went back down, bobbing his daughter like an ocean wave. Cradling her, he knew from his younger siblings that babies liked songs, but all the songs he knew were about dope, sex, rock and rolling all night and partying every day. No, wait, that was it! Opening his mouth, he whispered out lyrics he sang to himself all the time.

_Beth, I hear you callin'  
But I can't come home right now  
Me and the boys are playin'  
And we just can't find the sound  
Just a few more hours  
And I'll be right home to you  
I think I hear them callin'  
Oh, Beth what can I do  
Beth what can I do_

His little girl hushed, eyelids drooping shut at a snail's pace, only to clamp down once her eyes were completely shut. Laughing at the contrast, Kelso sang the rest of the slowest song he knew to her.

_You say you feel so empty  
That our house just ain't a home  
And I'm always somewhere else  
And you're always there alone  
Just a few more hours  
And I'll be right home to you  
I think I hear them callin'  
Oh, Beth what can I do  
Beth what can I do_

"Michael, how's it feel to be a daddy?" Brooke asked him, her eyes still closed and her voice still sounding high.

"Thanks for making me a daddy."

"Anytime," she chuckled. "Now you do know I'm being sarcastic when I say that, right?"

"Sure. I know sarcasm. My buddies do that to me all the time. She's so tiny! I don't want to have to go."

"I know. I'd have you stay if I was the one in charge. That's such a pretty song, _Beth. _Michael…" She stirred just a tad, turning over onto her side to face him, her face still nestled into the pillow. "Can we name her Elizabeth?"

"Sure, but that's a really long name."

"How would you feel about shortening it to Beth, or Betsy, even?"

"I like Betsy." Gazing down at his daughter, Betsy just seemed to fit. Looking back up to tell Brooke how well he thought it fit, she was asleep again, smiling. Well, it was definitely a day for smiling. He was a daddy now.

_Beth, I know you're lonely  
And I hope you'll be alright  
'Cause me and the boys will be playin'  
All night_

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Now would be a good time to say I don't own the show or any of the songs I use. References to movies and shows that were popular in the 70s? Yeah, I don't own those either...pretty much anything in italics. Please review and Fez and Hyde's dad stories will be up soon...**


	9. Dads: Just the Way You Are

Forman Basement

1980

Fez rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, rising up from the couch. He couldn't remember what time they all called it a night, or day, since after midnight technically was day. Ah, the first day of the New Year, he thought, extending his arms above him, the crack from the stretch satisfying him. Turning his neck in a circle, climbed up the stairs to the kitchen.

Not the first time he spent the night, whether the Formans knew he had or not, his nostrils twitched at the lack of aromas wafting above the kitchen. No maple sausage frying in a skillet, no rolls doing one last minute in the oven, no oranges seducing the other scents from the bowl on the table—what the hell kind of New Year's Day was this? Opening the refrigerator door, he poured himself a glass of milk and propped himself up on the countertop.

"Good morning," Mrs. Forman sang, bundled up in her housecoat. "Oh, honey, now don't eat or drink anything else. You kids all being home, my baby finally home…I'm making waffles!"

"Music to my ears," he said, but with a frown. Of course it was wonderful having Eric back, but when he and Donna took to the dark, secluded upstairs after all the singing, drinking, and noise-making, Jackie just waved goodnight to them and pulled a magazine out from the basket next to the armchair. She had kissed him at midnight, he remembered with a smile, and she kissed him goodnight when he announced he would be going to sleep on the basement couch if anyone, anyone at all, wanted to join him. Even his cough at the end of his statement failed to register with her. She had planted herself in the cushions of the living room couch, flipping through a _Lady's Home Journal_ as if it were a _Cosmo._

"Oh, darn!" Mrs. Forman clanged a mixing bowl against the counter. "No butter. The one time I get to welcome my baby boy back and I didn't make sure there was butter in the house!"

"What's all the yelling?"

"Hyde, you look surprisingly sober," Fez said before gulping down the rest of his milk.

"Yeah, well, that takes skill, my friend."

"Since you two boys are up, would you mind going out and picking me up some butter?" Mrs. Forman asked, already taking the syrup out of the pantry. "There are some waffles in it for you if you do."

"Sure." Hyde dragged his keys off the countertop and burrowed into his winter coat, still draped over one of the kitchen chairs. Fez followed suit, taking an extra second to adjust his earmuffs. Both of them pulled down the fingers of their gloves to fit their hands into them, and were about to open the backdoor to the driveway, when Fez heard a gnarled scream in front of him.

"What is it? Is there yellow snow?"

"My car! My car's gone! It's buried under, like, a thousand feet of snow!" Hyde pressed his body into the door. "Snow's blocking the door. We can't even get out."

"You mean we have to have waffles with no butter?" Fez cried. "I hate snow! Nature's instrument of destruction."

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Forman said. She huddled into herself as she went to the phone and picked up the receiver. "At least the phone lines are still working. I'll go get Red up and break out the shovels. Now's there's only two, so I guess you boys'll just have to flip a coin to see who takes the first shift with him."

"Hey, guys," Kelso said, passing Mrs. Forman on her way out of the kitchen. "Did you see all the snow out there? What do you say we go to Mt. Hump and start the New Year off right with some super-sledding?"

"Kelso, man, you crashed here, too? Where did you sleep?" Hyde asked him, still trying to muscle open the door.

"Laurie's room. Yeah, it's practically a shrine to me. Fez, I know she's still kind of your wife and everything, but I know when I've left my mark in a room."

"You couldn't even give Jackie the extra bed for the night? What's wrong with you?"

Fez swallowed, knowing he should have been the one to look out for Jackie, still sleeping under a mound of quilts on the living room couch. He knew she'd probably wake up with a sore back and neck. He knew she would complain how sleeping on a couch never left her with that refreshed, sparkling feeling awakening from a bed left, and if she were in a particularly unpleasant mood, she would make a comment that the cheap fabric of the couch would be sure to leave blemishes and blotches all over her skin. But he didn't even think to make sure she had a bed for the night?

"Damn, Hyde, a guy wakes up and within five minutes he's being yelled at?"

"Whatever. Can you get the door open? My baby's out there freezing to death."

Kelso jiggled the handle of the door, Hyde and Fez close behind him. Repositioning themselves so their sides faced the door, they began driving their shoulders into it.

* * *

"Well, isn't this cheery?" Red said from his seat. Everyone now in the kitchen chewing on unbuttered waffles and sipping orange juice, they could all sense the sarcasm oozing out of his voice. "Here we all are, trapped together in a blizzard with no way out. It's just like something out of a POW movie, except soon, I may have to eat one of you."

"Oh, Red, it's not that bad. This gives Eric a chance to spend some real quality time with everyone." Mrs. Forman let out a nervous laugh, patting the top of Eric's head. He sat on the countertop, his plate in his lap, partially covering Donna's hand.

"Mom, no offense, but this kind of quality time is probably why we all get into so much mischief."

"Well, I can certainly fix that." Muttering under her breath, she dug through the hall closet, contents of boxes of various sizes soon filling up the narrow hall. "Here we go. _10,000 Pyramid_! Oh, now don't groan. What else do you have to do? Go down in the basement and stare at each other all day? Well, divide up into teams!" No one moved. "Fine. I'll do it myself. Red, you'll be team captain and you'll have…Donna, Eric, and Michael. Everyone else—my team, the winning team! Yay! All right. The pyramid is set up and since I did all the hard work, our team will go first. Come up here, Fez!"

"All right, I am first!" Fez sprang up from the counter to Jackie, who was seated next to Red and clasped both of her hands. "I will seize all the points possible, my dearest."

Inspired by her amused laugh, he stood across from Mrs. Forman, arms folded, ready to tap into her mind and respond to her clues. If there was one thing he was good at with Jackie, it was impressing her. Maybe she had always underestimated him, but, he remembered, any time he showed off any kind of skill, it wowed her. It had wowed her enough to pick him to be her skating partner, her dance partner, and damn it, if she could be impressed in any way from playing _10,000 Pyramid_, then he would do that, too.

"Category is 'Bundle of Joy: Words Related to Babies,'" Red said in a monotone. "You have thirty seconds. Go."

"Okay, this is what you feed the baby with."

"Breasts!"

"No, no, no, you put the milk in it."

"Oh, bottle!"

"Right, and when you change the baby, this is what you sprinkle on him. It's white, soft…"

"Powder." Fez shrugged, knowing he was two for two. Shaking off the mistake he made with the first word, he zeroed in on Mrs. Forman's face deeper. Word after word, he ignored Kelso's bursts of how much time was left, counting in his head how many he had. Six! Six words with just a few seconds left. Stop thinking about time.

"Ooh, this one is hard. You dress the baby in this."

"Diaper."

"No, it's…" The back of Mrs. Forman's hands faced him, shifting back and forth with the fingers wiggling, trying to grab the word out of the air. "Oh! In baseball, it's a way to hit the ball."

"Bunting!"

He said it at exactly the same time Red shouted time was up, causing him to jump up and down into Mrs. Forman's arms, swinging her back and forth. Seven for seven. The other team was no match for him. He never saw Nipsey Russell or Betty White do any better, and who here was really competition? Red? If the subject wasn't kicking someone's ass or war or politics, Red would be a pushover. Donna? Well, he wouldn't think about whether Donna was good or not. Even if she was, Kelso was too stupid and Eric would hesitate too much.

"I think Red and Eric should be partners," Kitty announced. Everyone's head jerked to see Red and Eric exchange hesitant, reluctant expressions. They stood and slouched over to the tile of the kitchen. "Your category is 'Things That Are Wet.'"

"Our whole team is all wet," Eric muttered.

"Oh, can it," Red snapped. "Just don't give any _Star Wars _or Africa clues and we'll be fine."

Fez tried to concentrate on Eric, to somehow will him to think of the upcoming sequel that promised to continue Luke Skywalker's quest to become a Jedi Knight, but his head kept swerving back to Jackie, still seated cross-legged in the kitchen chair, hands folded and in her lap. When he dated Nina, even when he dated Big Rhonda, he caught them staring at him. Catching Nina ogling him from the corner of her eye at the DMV turned him on like nothing else, but he never caught Jackie staring over at him. She was just watching Eric, fumbling every word.

"Time!" Mrs. Forman shouted. "You only got five! That means our team goes to the Winner's Circle! Steven, are you going to give or receive?"

Eric and Kelso snorted laughter.

"Uh…" Hyde stood, glancing at Jackie. "I'll receive." Without looking at her, he managed to make his way over to the center of the kitchen, arms folded, the clues on the pyramid behind him. A rush of jealousy flooded Fez's body in spite of the apathy Hyde displayed. He knew better. That's how the sneaky bastard had always acted around her, and with those sunglasses, no one could ever tell if he was really in an apathetic mood or not. The son of a bitch could be thinking anything, anything!

He tried to catch Jackie's eye by giving her a smile of encouragement, but she stood diagonally from Hyde, avoiding facing him. She kept her eyes straight on the category behind him.

"Go."

"Chinese food. Chanel, Christian Dior…Italian leather." Her voice was steady, each clue the same tone. Fez avoided the category, preferring to make his own inner guess from her clues. She tossed her hair before folding her arms. "Gucci." Her mouth and eyes widened, her hands preparing to clap together. "Imported Gucci purses."

"I don't know. Things that are expensive."

Fez shook his head, knowing that wasn't it. Come on, Jackie. Let me read your thoughts before he does.

"Fez!" she screamed.

"Things that are foreign."

"Good!" She clapped her hands, absorbed now in making her way up the pyramid. Her posture eased, the stone-faced expression she had adopted to match Hyde's vanished. "Okay, uh… 'Let's clean those teeth.'" Her arms had worked up and down like she was jogging.

"What a dentist says."

About to open her mouth, the shrill ringing from the telephone startled everyone.

"Pause the time, Mr. Forman!" she ordered.

"Hello?" Mrs. Forman answered. "Oh, yes, he's here. Just a minute." Bringing the receiver down, she twisted her side. "Fez, it's your father."

Papa! His eyes lit up, ready to run into the living room with it as far as the cord would allow him. Fighting the instinct to push Jackie aside, he squeezed in between her and the oven, nudging her closer to Hyde. He entangled with her and almost sent her down to the ground had Hyde not caught her.

"Watch it!" she barked to Fez, prying herself out of Hyde's arms.

Her voice, for once, could not capture him, not now. It took a split second to look back at them, but he saw it. He saw their eyes lock for a split second before reality hit them and they couldn't simply fondle each other as they used to—on the couch, in his room, in his chair. He refused to look back now that he entered the living room, the cord of the phone already growing taut.

"Are you there, son?" Fez grinned at hearing his language spoken to him. His father spoke so often with a growl, even when affectionate, that his body rumbled and intimidated anyone who didn't know him to see he had more in common with a teddy bear than a grizzly.

"It's so good to hear from you!" Fez said back in a language he knew Red never foresaw being used in his house. "Happy New Year!"

"Your mother and I are getting ready to make a trip to America sometime. We bought some American clothes and I can't wait to have…it is the burger place…McDonalds? Yes. McDonalds. Oh! Listen to this." Fez listened to his father clear his throat, knowing there was a cigar interlaced in his fingers and the ones on the other hand busy jangling the one or two coins in his pocket. "Don't go changin' to try to please me/you never let me down before/don't imagine you're too familiar/and I don't see you anymore."

"Ah, you have been studying the words and music of Billy Joel," Fez laughed, wagging his finger even though he knew his father couldn't see it.

"Yes. I sang it to your mother. Then she showed me her breasts."

"Papa!"

"I am sorry. I forgot you do not like to hear about my needs. I won't keep you. Say hello to your friends." There was a pause. Just before Fez assumed they had been caught off, he heard, "Don't go trying some new fashion and don't change the color of your hair. We will write!"

Holding his breath, he pushed open the kitchen door and hung the phone back up on the wall, Donna rolling her eyes at Kelso's last guess. Peeking at the category, "Things You Do Nude," he nodded his head at Donna's blushing, her hands covering her face. Taking a seat next to Jackie, her cheeks still flushed, she at last made eye contact with him.

"How's your dad?" she asked.

"Oh, he is just fine," Fez said. "Dearest, are you happy?" He made sure to whisper it, taking her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. Anyone else might think it was the beginning stages of a lovers' tryst. "You don't wish I was someone else?"

"Fez." Her eyes burned solemn resolve into his. "You're always there when I need you. That's all that matters."

"So…you need to know I will always be the same old someone that you knew?" He licked his lips, hoping the reference to the song his father just sang would curl the corners of her pouty mouth up into a smile.

"Yes, Fez. Just the way you are."

About to say the same thing to her, the turn of her head quelled any desire he had to speak. Maybe she did like him just the way he was, but it meant nothing if she loved someone else. Shaking his head at the sound of her sighing, he began to think more and more that she did.

**A/N: Please read and review! Updates will be soon. I do not own this great, underrated tv show.**


	10. Dads: Custard Pie

Eric Forman's Bedroom

1978

Hyde swore if Forman mentioned Donna's absence one more time, he would pick up one of the GI Joe's scattered throughout the bedroom and chuck it at him so hard, that is, if he didn't decide bludgeoning him to death with it would satisfy him more. Turning the knob on the record player, Led Zeppelin's _Custard Pie _blasted with a greater fervor. Summer's humidity peeled away at the house, the lawn, their skin, but down in the basement not more than an hour ago, Jackie sent tremors coursing through him. That girl was worth all the sneaking around. Yeah, sure, they cut their make-out time short to go see _Animal House_. They laughed earlier at realizing they did have something in common—not wanting to waste one dollar on _Jaws 2._

"Man, I bet Kasey isn't up in his room listening to music. I bet he's out cruising, picking up whatever girl he wants," Forman sighed, his fingers lazily tracing patterns into the carpet. His back against his dresser, he frowned. "What are you so happy about?"

"Happy? I don't get happy. This is amusement at your pain."

"Uh huh, well, if the woman you loved left you, you'd understand. Oh, that's right. You don't have anyone."

"Oh boo hoo. Woe is me."

_Well, I may look like I'm crazy, I should know right from wrong  
See me comin', throw your man out the door  
Ain't no stranger, been this way before  
See me comin', mama, throw your man out the door  
I ain't no stranger, I been this way before._

"Just go out there and bring her back," Hyde said, shaking his head at the fact the idea never entered his mind until now. Wow, if Forman left, only Fez would be around, and Fez was so hyped up on Nina-pills it would be child's play to avoid him for the rest of the summer. Maybe he would be nice and take her to see _Grease _again. Wait, he thought. No. You don't take the girl you're having a fling with to the movies unless you only plan on sharing one seat, and the most either of them had ever done at the movies was Jackie nestling into him, rooting her head in under his. Hell, she paid his way in, so reciprocity dictated he slide his hand down her pants and work his way into her, but he'd noticed lately that when he stretched his hand out on her thigh, a sultry, vibrant expression washed over her face and it floored him so much he couldn't move.

"Yeah right. Fly all the way out there to hear how big an ass I am."

"That's not what would happen and you know it."

It was just one of countless events like this, the two of them with their backs against the dresser exchanging ideas, sober ideas, with someone else's music distracting any spies from hearing how pansy-assed or imbecilic the ideas sounded. Hyde knew that, if Donna hadn't run away, if she hadn't wasted her time with Kasey, if she and Forman hadn't broken up, he might consider breaking the news to Eric about what all he had been doing this summer—bowling…he fuckin' loved bowling with her, swimming, even camping…just one time for just one night, with Kelso's ex-girlfriend. Was she officially an ex? Jackie seemed to think so, but she didn't like talking about it with him.

_Put on your night shirt and your morning gown  
You know by night I'm gonna shake 'em down  
Put on your night shirt Mama, and your morning gown  
Well, you know by night I'm gonna shake 'em down  
Your custard pie, yeah, sweet and nice  
When you cut it, mama, save me a slice_

"Hyde, have you ever…" Forman swallowed, bringing his hand up from the carpet to wring it in his other. "You've been to third base, right?"

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, okay." Forman twisted his upper body, finally making eye contact with him. "Like, I know you've been the third baseman and the girl came to you, but was it ever the other way around?"

Staring into Forman's wide eyes, his bottom lip fell half an inch from its partner, allowing him to wet it.

* * *

"_Steven, Steven you don't have to do that," she gasped, going so rigid, he held her tighter for fear her knees would buckle. On his knees, his arms slithered up her thighs until his palms grinded against her hip bones. Her bottom and fists clenched, her calves shaking, it was a wonder she didn't just get it over with and faint._

"_I want to, baby." Kissing the rough denim of her jeans, he straightened his back until he was face to face with her belt, more a scarf stuffed through all the belt loops than anything else. Knotted at the side, the soft lavender blended into his fingers. Jackie Burkhart terrified of sex—he hesitated to make sure he didn't laugh. If she misunderstood and took him to be laughing at her, there'd be more damage than there already was. Damn Kelso, making her this tense. Her jeans clung to her slippery legs thanks to the summer's heat. Finally reduced to a black blob around her ankles, he sat back. Her hands parallel to the ground in spite of the fact her arms looked glued to her sides, she was like a tree, a tiny little Christmas tree. Her pants made for the sexiest tree skirt he had ever seen. Following up the trunk, he froze at her eyes, dancing from jittery to delighted and everywhere in between._

"_Why are you looking at me like that?"_

"_Like what?" he asked._

"_Like I'm the star on the top of the Christmas tree." He held his breath. Well, maybe they had more in common than he had originally thought._

"_Maybe you are," he said, summoning every cool image he could, channeling in his Zen. "Maybe there's a present in here." With that, he took each of her legs with one arm and reeled in his head._

"_Steven, you…" She tried to hold his head still, but succeeded only in running her thin fingers through his hair, each one curling at the contact he'd made._

"_Your only concern right now should be making sure I make this feel good," he said._

* * *

"Yeah, just once, though. Why?"

"I was just thinking, maybe had I been less…selfish with Donna, we'd still be together."

"Will you two turn that down?" Red seemed to erupt from the door. "We're downstairs trying to listen to Cronkite, and all we hear is this garbage!"

"Led Zeppelin's not garbage, Dad."

"I don't care who it is, Eric. Turn it down now."

Hyde sat with his wrists on his knees watching Eric turn the knob.

"Steven, when are you going to get rid of that beard?"

"I like it!" he said with a forced bob of the head. "Don't you think it makes this place more cheerful?"

"Good Lord, I think this crap is making both of you bigger dumbasses by the second!"

"Whatever, Dad." Hyde's smirk evaporated into thin air, a stream of humiliation billowing over his face. His heart raced, flashes of Forman and Red teaming up to weigh in on this new square-ness he imbibed. Jackie's fault, he wanted to blurt out. It's Jackie's fault I've gone all _Partridge Family_! She makes me stupid!

Instead, the corner of Red's mouth twitched.

"This is your last warning, both of you," he said, wagging a finger at them after an eternity's pause. Closing the door behind him, they waited for his footfall onto the last step at the bottom of the staircase before turning to each other.

"Want to listen to it again?" Forman asked.

"Sure."

_Your custard pie, I declare, it's sweet and nice  
I Like your custard pie  
When you cut it, mama... mama, please save me a slice.  
Save me a slice of your custard pie.  
Drop down_

* * *

**A/N: I've heard four Led Zeppelin songs this week and two references to John Bonham, so I figured it was time to write Hyde's chapter! In case you haven't noticed yet, all his chapters are Led Zeppelin songs, Donna's are Carly Simon, Kelso's is KISS, Eric's Aerosmith, Fez's is Billy Joel, and Jackie, of course, uses ABBA. I don't own any of the songs or the television shows. Please leave me a review!**


	11. Dads: Think About It

Piero's Italian Restaurant

1981

Eric didn't need to use the restroom, but as he washed his hands in the marble sink, paintings of Tuscan villas, Luciano Pavarati's voice resounding overhead, he counted it more as a scenic detour during his very expensive, very pro-Italian rehearsal dinner. Shaking his head, he never dreamed Red and Mom would feel like shelling out the kind of money it took to come here, especially since it was Take Two for a Pinciotti-Forman wedding…which was tomorrow.

"What are you doing in here?" Red asked, his belt already loosened. "When you're gone, you know who has to listen to your mother and Bob's pity party out there? Me! Now, what is so important that you're in here with only half your plate emptied back at the table?"

"But…"

"I don't care." Red threw up his hands and gave the door a solid push. "Out."

"Dad…"

"Out, Eric."

The fluorescent lighting in the bathroom made the glowing candlelight seem inefficient. Blinking back spots, he found his way back to their corner table, Donna, her parents and step-parents, Mom, and the wedding party devouring the family-sized entrees, finally all passed around leaving the serving bowls empty. Everyone there Eric wanted to be there, he thought, minus the grouch back in the bathroom.

* * *

Forman Kitchen

1973

"For the last time, Eric, you failed during the test-run with the wrench, so I'm the one going over there and you're the one creating the diversion."

"Yes, sir." Eric sat on the counter, eyeing the jar of bouillon cubes in his father's left hand, a wrench in the other.

"Did you load the marbles into the medicine cabinet?"

"Oh, yes, sir. As soon as Mr. Pinciotti goes for his shaving cream…" He gargled in his mouth to mimic the sound of hundred of marbles crashing out of the medicine cabinet onto the Pinciotti's countertop, his arms flinging around at the same time.

"Good, good," Red laughed. "That bastard'll think that's his prank, and then he won't think twice about turning on the shower. Oh, jeez, is that what time it is? I better get over there. Now, I better hear that phone ring in no more than five minutes. I'll be counting." He stuck only his head out the backdoor, and then crossed into the Pinciotti's yard like a POW escapee.

Eric waited for his father to give him the signal, scratching the tiptop of his head, before tiptoeing to the phone. Why am I the one being quiet? Mom had no idea what they were doing, of course, with Donna and her mom gone for a few days, he gave a low villainous chuckle at their failsafe plot. Picking up the phone, he dialed the Pinciotti's number.

"Hello?"

"Hello," he mumbled, deepening his voice. "I represent Shady Brock's Shelter for Rocks, the most cordial, congenial, and downright companionable pet rock seller this side of Milwaukee. Do you mind taking a short survey in regards to your personal pet rock and how it has enriched your life?"

"Oh, see, I don't have a pet rock. My wife says they're a waste of money."

"You don't have a rock? Horrors!" Eric let his hand clutch at his heart, realizing staying in character would be the only way to keep from laughing. "Would you mind taking a short survey to test your compatibility for a pet rock? There are so many here in need of a loving home."

"I don't think so…"

"Did I mention there are so many here in need of loving home for under five dollars?"

"Oh!" He could hear Bob sigh into the phone. "Sure. I can take a quick survey. I got nowhere to go but my shower today anyway. Hey, that rhymes!"

"It certainly does, my friend. It certainly does." Covering the receiver, he laughed into his sleeve before bringing it back up to the side of his face. "We'll proceed then. Question number one—during any of your travels, have you ever stopped to admire a rock formation?"

"I saw Mount Rushmore back in 58, about a year before my little girl was born. I had stopped on the road to watch them film _North by Northwest_ and boy, I'll tell you, that was a pretty admirable rock formation, our Founding Fathers all next to each other, sitting proudly. I was in the Guard way back when…"

"Question number two," Eric droned out, thinking of another question. "Do you like things that are smaller than you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Red sneak back into the kitchen, a devious grin on his face. The bouillon cubes were gone, and Bob's blabbing transformed into background noise.

"Well, my calculations inform me you would be an excellent adopted father to a pet rock. Have a good day." Hanging up, he raced to his father and opened his hands. "Well? Well?"

"Let's run upstairs. You can see right into their bathroom, as your mother and I found out," he said, his voice falling flat at the second half of his sentence. Stepping on each other's heels up the stairs and into his parents' bedroom, they plastered their faces up against the window. "Any minute now, he'll open his medicine cabinet and swear at all the marbles in there."

"And then he'll bathe in some nice beef broth!" Eric finished for him. "Dad, where's the wrench?"

"Eric, for goodness sake. Do you really think I'd…" Their eyes locked and widened in unison.

"I'm on it!" Eric darted down the stairs and out the backdoor to the Pinciotti's house. He could hear Red behind him, could hear the orders to retreat echo.

Through the teal living room, he raced the house he knew as well as his own up to the bathroom, Bob humming something down the hall. His body swiveling in the hallway, he threw himself into the linen closet, closing the door behind him. Wedging himself into the space below the shelves, he waited to hear footsteps.

"Eric! Eric!" He heard a whispered hiss and the sound of shoes trying not to squeak.

"I'm in here," he said, cracking the door open just enough to see Red's nervous face.

"Get out of there!"

"Bob's coming! Hide!"

He couldn't see where his father took off, but he could hear the heavy footsteps of someone strolling right past the linen closet, humming the same unrecognizable tune. A second passed, and then another. Eric shut his eyes and held his breath, about to open the door and make a break for it.

A sound like a sudden downpour echoed throughout the hallway, joined by an exclamation of surprise. Looks like the marbles did their trick, he thought. Cracking the door open, he stuck everything from the waist up into the hall, craning his neck to find Red.

Red exited Donna's room, never taking his eyes off the bathroom. Flailing his arm at Eric, they crept back out to the living room, the smell of beef and noodle soup permeating. They exchanged a look, Eric looking back in the direction of the bathroom while Red worked the front door open a centimeter at a time.

"What the hell?" was the last thing they heard on their way back to their house.

* * *

Piero's Italian Restaurant

1981

"What are you still doing out here?" Red asked, leaving the bathroom.

"Oh, just thinking."

_When will the clouds all blow it away  
When will the good people have their say  
Now I hope you're still around to see the day  
Take a while, Think About It  
Take a while, Think About It  
Take a while, Think About It_

"Why's Aerosmith playing in an Italian restaurant? If I were you, that's what I would be thinking about," Red said, wincing at the sudden change in atmosphere the song caused, but to Eric, it fit the moment perfectly.

"Hey, Dad, remember that April Fool's Day when we took apart Bob's shower and filled it with bouillon cubes?"

"Oh, yeah!" Red laughed. "You know, that was probably the best prank I ever pulled on that dumbass. You hid in their linen closet."

"That's what I was thinking about."

"What a great prank. I bet Bob still has that wrench. What was it you were talking to him about on the phone? Pet rock?" Red wiped his eyes, shaking out tears from laughter. "Yes, sir. Best prank ever." He patted Eric's back and returned to the table with him, both of them snickering.

_Take it nobody out, if it in the tame  
That which is now, will be again  
Who can decide who is insane  
Take a while, Think About It  
Take a while, Think About It  
Take a while, Think About It_


	12. Dads: Dancing Queen

Point Place High School

1977

The orbs of light from the disco ball spun around the room and all over Jackie's face. Waiting by the punch bowl, she smoothed out the skirt of her navy blue dress and then moved up to touch the forget-me-nots lodged into her heavily sprayed hair that curled down her neck like a telephone cord. She recognized the intro to the next song and exhaled out of the corner of her mouth. Daddy just had to come, even if he couldn't make it in time for this song, it could still be a great night.

_Friday night and the lights are low  
Looking out for the place to go  
Where they play the right music, getting in the swing  
You come in to look for a king  
Anybody could be that guy  
Night is young and the music's high  
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine  
You're in the mood for a dance  
And when you get the chance.._

She mouthed the words, whispering them in a disco prayer that somebody, somebody, would come through those gym doors and pick her up and whirl her around the room, leaving the other cheerleaders and their fathers to wonder where such a handsome couple had been hiding. Her upper body shifting from side to side, she danced around the snack table, the cheap paper tablecloth only making her stand out more.

"Jackie?"

Oh no, it was a girl's voice. She rolled her eyes and looked up, plastering a giddy, empty smile.

"Isn't your dad coming?" It was Gina, the girl with four holes in each of her ears and a dad with a ponytail and tweed suit.

"Oh yeah, he's on his way. He said he was picking up something really special for me, and in our family, special means diamonds." She let out a dismissive laugh and flicked her hand, practiced moves that had stood the test of time as far as disarming the passive-aggressive attacks of rest of the girls on her squad went.

"Okay, well, I guess me and my dad will just have to dance twice as much to compensate for you."

Compensate, Jackie thought. That word has too many syllables for the likes of her. Where are you, Daddy?

_You're a teaser, you turn 'em on  
Leave them burning and then you're gone  
Looking out for another, anyone will do  
You're in the mood for a dance  
And when you get the chance..._

Growling, she folded her arms and bumped the table with her hip, sending an array of green and white napkins fluttering to the floor. He was going to ruin this song for her if he didn't show up! He said he would! He dropped her off at the beauty parlor that very morning, agreeing that wearing her hair down like a brunette Veronica Lake would just exude glamour and class. She had the stylist pin just a bit of it up so she could slip a few forget-me-nots into the side. Hell, he had even picked her up and said he couldn't wait to see how the rest of her would look!

Unfastening her coin purse, she picked up her watch she had dropped inside it. Her bottom lip trembled when she saw the time, tears gracing her curled eyelashes. Spying two shiny coins at the bottom of the purse, she scanned the gym for the nearest phone. Daddy had his chance and blew it, but maybe she could call Michael. Yeah right, and by the time he showered, combed his hair, put on his suit, and arrived to the school, the dance would be over and all she would get in return for once again transforming herself into a living doll would be Michael whining that he missed _Match Game _or something.

Before the song could end, she hurried to the concession stand that was acting like a coat check for the evening and wrapped herself up in her long coat, just grateful she had picked out close-toed shoes. Sneaking over to the side door, she knew no one would notice her leave.

* * *

At least it was a shorter walk to Eric's house from school than it was from her own house, and there was virtually no wind, just a light powdery snow flaking down from the purple clouds and wafting around her like strings of beads. She could see his porch light in the distance, the one from Donna's house shining right next to it.

Clinging to the railing, she set a foot down as far into the first step down to the basement as she could, bracing herself for a fall. Her coin purse brushed against the rail when she brought her gloved hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her shoulders and chest heaved from her deep inhales, but it worked, relaxing her body. With time to finally think, she wondered if it would make more sense to just try Donna's house first, but then, Donna was usually over here. Maybe it would just be Donna, and the guys wouldn't have to see her like this, gussied up with no place to go. No, that wasn't true, she thought, fighting back tears again. You had a place to go, but no one met you there.

Giving the chipped door the look of death, she turned the knob and closed her eyes at the brightness of the overhead lights in the room.

To the side, Eric stood in front of a large sketchpad propped up on an easel, pointing with a marker to whatever was on it. Peeking her head further in, she saw a green scribbled mess with an orange circle inside it. Eric's points grew more and more frantic.

"Is it a beach?" Hyde was asking him. Frantic pointing answered. "Some kind of fruit?"

"Apple. Orange. Peach," Fez said, shaking his head after every guess.

"Twenty seconds," Donna announced, sitting on the dryer, her ankles banging against it.

"Fuck. Apple orchard. Basket of apples," Hyde trailed off. "Peach?"

"Peach bush!" Fez cried.

"Time!" Donna shouted, clapping her hands. "No more guesses."

"Peach bush?" Eric screamed. "This is a salad! The green is the lettuce and the orange is a tomato! Peach bush? Peach bush."

"Why does that sound so dirty?" Hyde asked.

"You know Georgia peaches?" Kelso asked, reaching into the freezer for a popsicle. "If they get a waxing down there, would it be a peach bush?"

"Jackie?" Donna peered towards the door. "You're back already?"

"Yeah, uh, Donna, can I talk to you? Alone?" Keeping her head down, her eyes burning holes into the rickety steps leading down into the basement, she knew all of them were looking at her.

Donna tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned down to face Jackie. "Why aren't you at the dance? Have you been crying?"

"My dad didn't show up." Even she couldn't believe how low her voice was, how pitiful, like a kid afraid of getting coal in her stocking, and she knew everyone in the room heard.

"I'm so sorry." Donna wrapped her arms around her and dusted the snow out of her hair. "That's a really jerky thing to do. He didn't try to call you or anything? Look, don't cry. You know what you need? You need to come and play Pictionary with us. Eric's mom brought him this art set."

"Thinking Eric had talent?"

"Shut up!" Donna shoved her, laughing. "You made me laugh at his expense, you bitch!"

"Goon."

"Midget."

"Whore."

"Come on. Come and play with us. Me and Kelso need an extra teammate anyway. Believe it or not, Eric, Hyde, and Fez are actually kicking our ass. We were just lucky they didn't score on this one."

Jackie hung her coat up on the stand and followed Donna into the activity. It wasn't a prom dress, she knew, but she knew how overdressed she was to come hang out in the basement, flowers in her hair, a brand new dress. But none of them said anything, not one of them stared at her like she was the plague or some human manifestation of the winter flu.

"Okay, the way we're doing it is that we have two hats and their team picked words for our team to guess and vice versa," Donna explained, holding up a hat. "This is our hat. You can go next."

"Pick a good word, baby, hopefully one as dirty as peach bush," Kelso said, nudging her.

Reaching into the ball cap, she could feel the soft texture of folded bits of paper against her nails. Like talons, they pricked one and hoisted it up to her little fist. Unwrapping it, she saw five impossible words: _Invasion of the Body Snatchers._

"This is such a hard one!" she moaned. "Eric, is this yours?"

"Let me see it."

She wound her way over to him and let the paper drop into his hands.

"No. I think Hyde made this one up, but if you don't know what it is, I'd be happy to subtract a point from your team."

"If it's not nail polish or shoes, she won't know it," Hyde said, smirking at her. He seemed to read her scowl like an expert. "Prove me wrong!"

"I can draw it just fine, thank you!" She lifted the skirt of her dress on the way to the sketchpad, trying to think of how to draw aliens coming out of pods. "How long do I have?"

"Three minutes," Fez answered her, looking at his watch. "Just say when, beautiful."

"Okay." Immediately, she drew a football shape with a green marker, filling it with three little circles to make peas.

"Three-headed baby!" Kelso shouted.

"Dillhole," Donna muttered. "Leaf!"

Jackie gestured for her to keep guessing while reaching for the gray marker. If it weren't for Michael's obsession with all those stupid UFO books, she wouldn't know how to begin to draw a Martian or whatever the hell they were, but she knew their indistinguishable faces now, long and thin with gigantic black eyes.

"Leaf…spinach, beans, green beans, peas?"

Nodding her head like a wild woman, Jackie drew gray legs poking out from the peapod, growing into a long, thin body with an oval head. She uncapped the black marker and marked in the black eyes.

"Alien!" Michael screamed at her.

"One minute," Fez said, still trying to alternate looking at her and looking at his watch.

"Vegetable alien," she could hear Donna thinking out loud. "Pea alien. Pod. Pod people! Uh…_Invasion of the Body Snatchers_!"

Squealing, Jackie raced to her and hugged her, giggling at her silly drawing on the sketchpad. Tons of paper lay scattered across the basement floor, obviously the end result of what happens when the correct guess was made. She and Donna shared the dryer, watching Fez stand up, looking around the room for their team's hat.

"Just remember, Fez, not everything is a candy," Hyde warned, arms folded, sunglasses off for once.

"No, but everything should be."

"Yeah, like that really delicious candy Peach Bush, by the makers of Tootsie Pop," Eric snapped from the couch.

"Burn!"

Jackie couldn't help but laugh at every single moment.

**A/N: More to come! Please leave reviews.**


	13. Memory: The Love's Still Growing

Forman Living Room

1976

_Gone With the Wind _always moved Donna, the language, the immensity of it. The mustard couch the Formans had in their living room accommodated her body quite well, in addition to Jackie's.

"Oh," Jackie sighed, placing her hand over her heart. "This is my absolute favorite scene in the whole world. Watch! Watch! Rhett's going to pull Scarlett into him and tell her enough with that kind of talk, and then, oh my God, she's going to get the best kiss of her life!"

"I've seen this movie a few times, Jackie. I think I know by now what happens in it." How did they always get stuck together? Snorting, she wiggled closer to the arm of the couch. Scarlett and Rhett, arms still coiled around each other, their black period dress standing out from the white shutters behind them, locked eyes for a split second.

"I just love it!" Jackie squealed. "Of course, the book is a lot hotter. The movie leaves a lot of stuff out."

"Oh, my God, you've read a book?"

"Donna! _Gone With the Wind _is the most romantic book ever! Of course I've read it." Jackie folded her arms and rolled her eyes.

"I bet it's not nearly as romantic as _Emma_."

"What's that?"

"Jane Austen? It's only the story of a little busybody who thinks she can improve the lives of everyone around her, like someone in real life I know." Narrowing her eyes at Jackie, she snapped her neck back in the direction of the television in time for Scarlett to rattle off exactly what she wanted her ring to look like. "You know, Jackie, I'll make you a deal. I'll read _Gone With the Wind _if you'll read _Emma_, unless you think the English would be too hard for you."

"Please. Romance is easy to understand."

* * *

Donna Pinciotti's Bedroom

1978

That's how Donna remembered it beginning, she thought, tapping the tip of her pencil against her notebook. She had to admit, she loved _Gone With the Wind _as a novel, and Jackie was right. So much had been either edited out of the movie or just plain discarded it was like the movie was really just a footnote. In the basement during that time, no matter how rowdy they all were, Jackie always kept _Emma _close by, her bookmark edging closer and closer to the last page. After that book, she started bringing _Pride and Prejudice _with her.

* * *

Forman Basemnt

1976

"How do you find so much time to read?" she asked her one day when they had the basement all to themselves.

"Oh well, if I'm not here, I usually have a lot of time on my hands." Jackie then brought her legs up onto the couch and turned to face Donna. "Okay, so I have a theory and I want to test it out: Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley?"

Donna laughed, hanging her head down so low the bottom of her chin brushed her collar bone. "Mr. Knightley, hands down. You know, you're the last person I expected to discuss literature with."

"Ew! I knew you would pick him!" She shoved her. "Emma was really cool and beautiful and everything, but what should have happened is put her with Mr. Darcy and let Lizzie Bennet have Mr. Knightley because, well, that's the way the couples should be."

"What are you guys talking about?" Eric asked, clamoring down the stairs, his spindly body oozing down them with a familiarity she shared with him. That's not all she wanted to share with him, she thought, gazing at his long, thin fingers. Skinny, sure, but they seemed, well, talented, meticulous.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Knightley," Jackie sang. "Eric, do you like Donna?"

Yanking Jackie by the hair, Donna stomped up the stairs into the kitchen. Her nostrils flaring, her arms folded, her cheeks flushed—bad enough Kelso mentioned what she said about Eric being cute, but to flat-out ask? She was dead.

"What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Donna, that was my theory. Eric is Mr. Knightley and so you like him and since you proclaimed me Emma, my mission in life is to bring the two of you together."

"Okay, but that's not the way to do that. Since you've gone all Jane Austen crazy, maybe you should pay more attention to the fact Kelso isn't exactly a Mr. Darcy."

"I'm done talking about it that way! Look, if you like Eric, odds are, you're the only one in the world who does, which means you have to be together. I'll help you. I've been on so many dates and now that I've bagged the man I'm going to marry, I'm going to teach you everything I know."

"How fun."

Jackie took her hand and led her back down into the basement. Eric scuttled to the record player, his fingers like a spider on acid taking the Carly Simon record out of it and spinning in a circle searching for its cover.

"Hey, I thought you guys were heading out."

"What were you listening to?" Donna would know that confident, cocked grin on that unconventionally beautiful face. She knew it was Carly Simon, all right, and Eric listened to her?

"Nothing."

"Oh, nothing," Jackie squawked. "Well, that's a shame because Donna and I were just talking about how great _The Love's Still Growing _is."

"Oh, well," Eric purred, producing the record from the cover with all the seduction of a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under the candlesticks. "It just so happens we have that album. Should I…play it for you?"

Donna laughed at the way he flipped his hair, something his dad would call a twitch.

_And I'm so high  
I can't go on  
Oh but I  
Can sing this song  
Because the love's still growing  
And the love's still growing_

* * *

Donna Pinciotti's Bedroom

1978

It was a much harder assignment than Donna anticipated, but it fascinated her just the same—your most vivid memory. Every English class in the school was making their students write their most vivid memory, not their best or saddest or most pivotal, but their most vivid. Picturing Eric thrusting out one hip and raising one eyebrow at the opportunity to…not impress, she thought. Seducing her? No, just trying to win her, court her, if she were going to use the Jane Austen lingo she had gotten Jackie so addicted to…she could remember the two of them catching him about to break that record into pieces. Wow. Was Jackie the reason they got together in the first place? But remembering the lyrics and how scarlet her cheeks were from just staring at Eric, it wasn't worth analyzing, just remembering.

_Some folk say  
That all hope is gone  
But today, the world is one  
Because the love's still growing  
And the love's still growing_


	14. Memory: Deuce

Forman Basement

1974

Kelso exhaled, the pungent smoke from his joint breezing around his head like a halo. Through the haze, he could see the outline of Forman's face and puffy eyes across from him.

"Man, why's Halloween on a Thursday this year?" he grumbled. "Nothing good ever happens on Thursday. I had a cavity filled on a Thursday, and I'm pretty sure Bambi's mom died on a Thursday."

"What do you care, man?" Hyde asked. "You're not trick-or-treating, are you?"

"Aren't you guys?"

Hyde and Forman threw their heads back, laughing cracked laughs that resembled a witch's cackle more so than two fifteen-year-olds snickering at someone. Kelso's shoulders drooped. What was the point of Halloween if you don't dress up and go trick-or-treating? The only good haunted house in the area was the one the Southwicks transformed out of their own house every year, and even though Doug Southwick shaved his own dog's fur and glued it onto himself to be a realistic wolf man, after the third time it lost some of its charm.

"I haven't thought about what I'll do," Forman said, staring off into space. "I'll probably go to the Southwicks, see if that really is Patty Southwick's hand grabbing everyone when they have you crawl through that tunnel part, come back here, hear Red tell me no haunted house is scarier than Korea, turn on _The Crawling Hand_, and pass out on the couch. Man," he said, his eyes widening. "It's like I know the future!"

"That just sounds like such a crappy Halloween," Kelso said. "Come on. Don't you guys want to do something fun? If we dress up really good, no one will know how old we are under our costumes! It'll be like we're out stealing candy from kids, but no one will know who to blame 'cuz we'll be in costumes! Awesome! They'll call up the cops and be like, 'Some older kids are taking the candy from other kids,' and when the cops ask what they look like, everybody'll be like, 'they're in a Halloween costume!'"

"Kelso, if you can think of something fun for us to do, by all means…" Hyde ran his fingers through his hair, his lip twitching from the sudden movement. "Hey! We should totally go to _Phantom of the Paradise_ after a time in the circle! It already looks like the guys that wrote it had a little circle session."

"Well," Forman coughed, staggering to his feet. "I'm all for going to a movie, but unless I hop on a ladder and clean the gutters again, I don't have any money."

"There has to be some way to wear costumes and earn money at the same time." Kelso closed his eyes, picturing costume after costume and who might believe it was the real thing. People would give Batman money, that's for sure. And if you went as a rabbit or a dog and someone took you home, you could rob their house.

_Get up  
And get your grandma outta here  
Pick up  
Old Jim is workin' hard this year  
And baby  
Do the things he says to do  
Baby, if you're feeling good  
And baby if you're feeling nice  
You know your man is workin' hard  
He's worth a deuce_

"What's that, KISS?"

"They're so great!" Hyde's voice caught on the last word, the heavy session of toking beginning to take its toll. "We should go as them!"

"Hey, yeah!" He waited for Hyde and Forman to groan and frog his arm, but all they did was stare. "Well, think about it. How many groups of three can possibly be out there? The Three Stooges and that's it!"

"The Three Musketeers, the Three Blind Mice, Bacon Lettuce and Tomato," Eric sang, cocking his head to the other side after each entry. "The Three Wise Men; Huey, Dewey, and Louie. You got Greg, Peter, and Bobby, any of kids from _The Waltons_, the Scarecrow, Lion, and Tinman…"

"Are you thinking about Donna in pigtails and a farmer's daughter dress?" Hyde grinned.

"Actually, it was her in pigtails wearing nothing until you got down to the ruby slippers."

"Let's be KISS, guys! You're losing focus! We can find a fourth guy! Look, I'll even be Gene Simmons. How about that?" Kelso shuffled through the bags of frozen peas and cauliflower in the freezer until he found a popsicle. "My brothers have so many cans of spray paint so we could do the masks ourselves and we can wear black sweats and tape on tinfoil."

"That just leaves wigs." Forman stumbled back into the couch, spitting out a laugh. "Finally, a chance to see what I'd look like with feathered hair. Hey, can I be Ace? He seems so much manlier than Peter Criss."

"No way am I going as a cat," Hyde snapped, turning on the television. "I call Paul Stanley. That one star over the eye. That's badass."

"Okay, so we have to get somebody to go as Peter Criss. That's all there is to it. Do you think Donna would go for it?"

"Kelso, you can't ask Donna to go trick-or-treating with us," Forman whined, hanging his head so low his chin brushed his chest.

"Oh, we're not trick-or-treating. We're putting on a show!"

* * *

Kelso, still humming _Deuce_, kicked a stray pebble all the way up the Formans' driveway. Not one kid in the locker room during gym seemed right for the part of Peter Criss, and none of the guys in homeroom did either. Forman and Hyde's heads shaking from the patio chairs told him they had the same amount of success he had, which was none, he thought.

"What do you call success when you really don't have any?" he asked.

"Failure," Hyde said. "Let's go in. At least Mrs. Forman is in there icing cupcakes. Come to think of it, how do you stay so skinny, Forman?"

"Probably all the smoking." Opening the door into the kitchen, they smiled at Mrs. Forman, humming to herself while she layered a yellow cupcake with another goop of chocolate icing, a caramel-colored bottle of Kahlua at her side. "Hey, cupcakes!"

"Oh, now boys, hold on. I bought these orange sprinkles for Halloween and I haven't put them on yet." She slapped Kelso's hand. "Why the long faces?"

"We were going to put on a concert in the garage and we need a fourth person," Kelso sighed, collapsing into a chair and thumping his elbows on the table. Resting his chin in his hands, he tried to think. You couldn't be KISS with only three guys. That wasn't an option, and as lame as Peter Criss was, you couldn't have a giant doll sit there in his place. "We were just going to put on the record and act like we were the ones singing and playing the instruments, but I guess it's a no-go. I mean, a doll can't act like it's playing the drums."

"Dolls? Oh, you boys should ask Donna."

"No way, Mom!" Eric burst. "We can't ask Donna because...because...it just has to be someone else, okay?"

"Well, I'm sure you'll find someone." Mrs. Forman dusted the finished cupcakes with sprinkles from an orange and white bag that reminded Kelso of candy corn. Each little pattern on the top of the cupcakes would be unique, he knew, because that's how much Mrs. Forman cared about them. She would arrange sprinkles into smiling faces, their names, sometimes even cats.

Peter Criss did his make-up so he would look like a cat.

"You know, Mrs. Forman, you look pretty young," he said. He knew Mrs. Forman would turn around and glare at him, expecting him to ask her for some impossible favor, like the time when he wet his pants at school back in second grade and his dad was out of town for work and his mom was tending Clarice who was home with stomach flu and also tending Kasey who wasn't sick but could fake it. He called Mrs. Forman and talked for five minutes about how no one made pot roast like her before she made him cut to the chase and then hurried to the school to bring him a change of pants. "You could be our drummer."

"What?" Forman shrieked, his voice cracking.

"Uh, I think he's just letting the cupcakes get to his brain." Hyde stepped in front of the table to block him from any eye contact with Mrs. Forman.

"No! Move, Hyde! Look, all she has to do is act like she's playing the drums. She'll be in the back and she'll be in make-up." He paused, waiting to feel a pat on the back or some kind of praise for such a good idea. "Come on, guys. If we charge a dollar a ticket, we'll get enough money to go to the movies and then some! I don't come up with good ideas very often."

"That's true," Hyde said, tightening his lips to avoid laughing. "You come up with outrageous, dangerous, moronic, hilarious ideas, but this time, you actually have a good one. Mrs. Forman, do you know who KISS is?"

* * *

The toddlers trick-or-treating as bunny rabbits and Cinderellas waddled next to their parents with their brown paper bags, the sun just beginning to sink below the tree line. Tapping the long rubber tongue he attached to his black and white mask, Kelso watched Forman return the cans of spray paint back to the shelves.

"Who would have thought some cardboard and silver spray paint would make us look so cool?" Forman asked, his voice muffled from his mask. "How're you coming, Mom?"

In the back of the garage, behind the cardboard drum set, Hyde bent over Mrs. Forman, applying one more whisker to her mask. All of them cut the mouths out of the masks to be able to mouth the lyrics.

"Eric, don't get me riled up now. I'm too nervous." She laughed, her shoulders shaking. They could all see her knuckles turn white from her grip on the drumsticks.

"Mrs. Forman, relax," Hyde said. "Here, you need some gloves. You have the easiest part of all. You get to sit. You don't have to act like you know how to play the guitar. It's going to be great, really great."

"You're just saying that, Steven."

"Hey, now." Kelso watched Hyde, in his black sweats covered with tin foil, wondering how someone so, so antisocial could be so good with people. "It's going to be a lot of fun, man. You know the words, right? I've seen you dance in the living room to Mel Torme or whoever you guys listen to and you know how to move your body, okay? It's going to be great." He patted her shoulder and ran over to his cardboard guitar. "How's my star?"

"Not as cool as my tongue," Kelso said. "You guys. I sold tickets to the whole football team and the cheerleading squad, so that's got to be like a hundred dollars right there."

"How are all these people going to fit in the driveway?" he heard Mrs. Forman ask at the same time he heard Hyde and Forman ask if they could buy some jock insurance off of him.

"I don't sell jock insurance! They all said they could hardly wait."

"Yeah, hardly wait to kick our asses!" Forman shouted, hands on his hips. He snapped his head in the direction of his mom. "Oh, don't look so shocked. You're nervous, too."

Finally, they could hear Red lifting the garage door. Past the crowd of murmuring, buzzed high schoolers, older children going as Cornelius from _Planet of the Apes_, cowboys, robots, and the weird kid who always went as one of the US presidents ran from house to house, flashlights now in hand. The Christmas lights strung up around the garage door and the dimmed lights in the garage gave the audience just enough light. Behind the drum set where no one could see, Mrs. Forman set the KISS record.

_Get up!  
And get your grandma outta here.  
Pick up!  
Old Jim is workin' hard this year.  
And baby,  
do the things he says to do._

Kelso's ears rang at the screams and cheers from the silhouetted audience, their faces running together. They liked it! They thought they were cool! Pulling the wire attached to his boot, he sent some sparks sizzling from either side, more cheering answering it. He wished he could look back and see Mrs. Forman banging on the drums, but he could barely see Hyde next to him, the eyeholes in the mask more like slits.

_Honey,  
Don't put your man behind his years._  
_And baby,  
Stop cryin' all your tears.  
Baby,  
Do the things he says to do.  
Do it!  
Baby, if you're feeling good,  
And baby if you're feeling nice.  
You know your man is workin' hard,  
He's worth a deuce!_

Applause and whistles echoed all over the garage, Kelso able to make out a few hands above the blob of heads. Signaling back to Mrs. Forman to keep the record going, they ended up mock-performing the whole album, Red sitting in one of the patio chairs with a beer all night. Kelso remembered exactly how the audience sounded when they saw the sparks, so shocked, but he knew he couldn't put it into the words it deserved. When it was all over, Donna came and congratulated them all, of course, and a few of the kids from school, and he remembered the exact amount of money they made that night: one hundred and sixty-six dollars, which, six of that automatically went to Red since it was his garage, and the remainder divided up, giving each of them forty dollars. He had no idea what Mrs. Forman did with her share, but she had whispered something to Red and gave him a wink, so that may have had something to do with it. Oh, wait, he thought. He forgot the best part.

* * *

"You guys sounded just like KISS!" Hank Holtz barked, shaking hands with them, the pins on his letterman's jacket reflecting the Christmas lights strung over the garage. "Who was your drummer? He was the only one I didn't recognize."

"Just a...a foreign exchange student," Hyde said with a grin, glancing over at an elated Peter Criss clapping his hands and laughing in front of Red.

* * *

Yep, he thought, he remembered every detail of the Halloween of 1974, and if he asked Donna what the name of the book was where you could look up words and it would give you smarter-sounding words that mean the same thing, he would be able to write every detail down and make that one night seem as great a masterpiece as _Make Way for Ducklings._

**A/N: In honor of Halloween...lol. This is actually based on a true story of my uncle and his band back in the 70s. I would pay money to go back in time and see it. Same goes for watching Eric, Kelso, Hyde, and Kitty actually doing it. Please leave a very spirited (pun intended) review.**


	15. Memory: Captain Jack

Pinciotti Living Room

1978

"I will never get this." Fez bit his lip. He knew he cut class one too many days and now his test was tomorrow, his history test, his American history test.

"Yes, you will. We'll just take it one study question at a time." Donna had that natural teacher tone, he thought, but not like a mean, bookish high school teacher, more like an elementary school teacher…who patronized on occasion to boost up her students' spirits. "It'll be okay, Fez. We're here for you. Now—how many times can a Congressman be re-elected?"

"What?" he screamed. "I thought there was no limit!"

"That's exactly what it says, Fez," Jackie said, hitting him with the study guide. "If you know the answer, show some confidence! Be a man."

"Questions shouldn't try to trick you. Stupid son-of-a-bitch questions." If he failed his American history exam, he might fail a citizenship exam when it came time. If he failed, it was grounds to be sent back home, to walk back into his family's house with his head hanging down, explaining that his mind blanked on him, causing him to write down that the flag had ten stripes and thirteen gold stars.

"Here, how about another one?" Donna yanked the study guide from Jackie's grasp and read another question. "Who has the power to declare war? This is an easy one."

"Easy when the answer's right in front of you," he pouted, resting his chin in his fist. Wedged in between the girls on the couch, papers and textbooks scattered all over the coffee table, he answered, "Congress."

"I don't see what you have to be worried about," Jackie scoffed. "Let me ask him one. Ooh! Now we'll find out if we have to be up all night. Can you name the first thirteen states?"

"Can you?"

"It's not my test." She folded her arms and raised both her eyebrows at him. Tapping his fingers on his knees, he bit his lip.

"Well, you have Maryland, Virginia, New York, New Jersey…" His lips dried, each state sucking more and more moisture from them. He would fail.

"Sometimes if you put things into a song, it'll help you remember. I remember back in an English class, our teacher had us learn all the prepositions to the _Yankee Doodle _song." Swinging her head from side to side, her red hair cascading down her shoulders with each bob, Fez blinked a few times at the long string of words emitting from her mouth.

"Don't scare him!" Jackie dropped from the couch to the coffee table. On her knees, she reached for a pen and started scribbling down the states. "But it is a good idea. You just need a song."

"Saturday night and you're still hangin' around/Tired of livin' in your one-horse town/Like to find a little hole in the ground/For a while," Fez sang. "See? I know all about American history. The song just gets dirtier from there. There is talk of masturbating. Ahem, Your sister's gone out/She's on a date/You just sit at home and masturbate/The phone is gonna ring soon but you just can't wait/For that call."

"Sounds like a night at Eric's house," Jackie quipped. "You can use that! It fits perfectly. Instead of 'Captain Jack will get you high tonight,' you can do…" Her black head bent down, the tips of her hair brushing the papers. "'Delaware/Rhode Island/Maryland."

"Rhode Island!" Fez blurted.

"Hey, that's pretty good, and instead of 'and take you to your special island,' it can be, 'North Carolina/South Carolina.' That's five states right there, Fez."

Compiling every multiple-part answer into a song, the three of them never noticed Bob set a plate of nachos on the table for them, crunching on one or two of them before heading back into the kitchen.

"You know, Donna, when you were little, I could do the fractions and the _Owl and the Pussycat_ stuff, but now all I'm down to is providing you nourishment. There's a little bit of hamburger meat still on those nachos, so all that protein should go right to your brain."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Thanks, Bob."

"Bob," Fez said, "Did you play your albums, smoke your pot, and meet your girlfriend in the parking lot?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Donna said, glaring at Fez. "We're just helping Fez study for his test."

* * *

Fez's Bedroom

1978

Ah, yes, Fez thought, pausing in his writing to sneak some jellybeans. He got an A on that test and Kitty Forman posted it on their refrigerator. Of course, since he had to cram, he forgot most of it the next day, but he didn't forget Donna and Jackie, taking time out of pillow fights or French-kissing each other or whatever it was that girls did when they gathered together to make sure he passed.


	16. Memory: Immigrant Song

Forman Basement

1978

Hyde lied on his stomach, edging up to the end of the cot, hearing it rattle all the way. His notebook opened to a blank page on the floor, he still held his pen in his hand against it. It was an uncomfortable way to do homework, but then, he had the time to get used to it this evening. For once, no one else was around in the Forman house, and this assignment had actually made him perk up in class. Ms. Brewer, not Miss or Mrs., but Ms. Brewer, had stretched her flabby arm across the chalkboard, writing the words "Most Vivid Memory" so to take up the entire board.

He knew himself well enough to know that he either remembered things almost to the exact detail or not at all, like the Circles, for instance. He couldn't remember what the hell anyone rambled on about in them, just that they were hysterical. Speaking of which, he thought, cocking his head to monitor his stash, but he thought better of it. The gang would never let him hear the end of it if they knew he had horded a stash.

It rested in a baggie in a brown paper bag behind his scant books and records on his shelf, directly behind _The Return of the King_. As if the god of rock and roll was sending him a sign, his _Led Zeppelin III _flopped over and plummeted to the floor from the shelf.

He ran to it, checking it over like Mrs. Forman checked over, well, everything. He took it out into the main room of the basement and set it into the player.

_Ah, ah,  
We come from the land of the ice and snow,  
from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.  
The hammer of the gods  
Will drive our ships to new lands,  
To fight the horde, singing and crying:  
Valhalla, I am coming!_

An instinctive smile curled into his face at the lyrics, engrained in the generous portion of his brain dedicated to all things Zeppelin. He let out a short laugh followed by a "huh" at how everything and everyone he had he could somehow trace to Zeppelin. Take _The Return of the King. _Once he heard from some burnout coming in to drop off some film and pick up some of Leo's stash that Led Zeppelin was heavily influenced by _The Lord of the Rings_, Hyde went out and bought the first book, and then the second, and then the third, and then _The Hobbit_. It wasn't until he found himself halfway through _The Silmarillion _that he acknowledged he had been moonlighting as a square. But Zeppelin was his connection to science fiction and fantasy. After Tolkien, he took on Bradbury, then Frank Herbert. Hell, he'd even bought Jackie _The Last Unicorn. _Fuck, even _Star Wars _was pretty good, but ten to one that's what Forman's most vivid memory would be, seeing that for the first time. He wished someone was here for him to come up with a wager for it.

He could see it now.

_"Steven, you will not write about how lame Eric was when he saw _Star Wars _for the first time as your most vivid memory," she would command, pouting out her lip._

_"Fine," he would say. "And what would you tell me to write about?"_

_"I don't know, but not that." She would sit on his cot and look around the room, fluffing out her hair in the process. "Why don't you write about when you read your Munchkin books for the first time?"_

_"They're not Munchkins, Jackie. They're hobbits, and they can kick any Munchkin's ass any time, any place."_

Laughing to himself, he spread himself out on his cot, letting the lyrics wash over him, give him some inspiration.

_On we sweep with threshing oar,  
Our only goal will be the western shore._

* * *

Forman Basement

1976

The three of them, he, Fez, and Jackie, sat in front of the basement television, he in his chair, Fez closest to him on the couch, and Jackie on the other end, wearing a sleeveless black dress with white flowers all over it and shoes that he knew, because she had babbled on and on about them, cost more than every t-shirt, every pair of jeans, every winter coat he owned. Forman and Donna were off being boyfriend and girlfriend and Kelso, well, Kelso could be just about anywhere.

"Hyde, _Chico and the Man _will be on soon and you are closest, my friend," Fez said, pointing a quaking finger at the TV.

"Fez, man, why do you like that crap?"

"It reminds me of me and Red," he said, folding his hands on his knees and giving Hyde a look that could only be described as a pretty-pretty-please look.

"Fine."

"Are you sure you don't want to watch it because Leslie Piercy said you looked like Freddie Prinze?" Jackie asked, making her voice extra shrill. "Because she says that about everybody. She even said Michael looked like Freddie Prinze when he's tanned and has a moustache. You can't take anything she says seriously."

"Well, in my case, I think it's true." Fez defied her by scooting as close to the edge of the couch as he could without falling off and rocking in time with the theme song.

"Take it easy, Punch," Hyde said. "I don't think it's much of a compliment."

"Are you saying it would be bad to look like Freddie Prinze?"

"No, I'm saying it would be bad to look like you!" Hyde threw a grin at Fez, laughing at his own burn.

"Uh huh, I see," Fez said, placing his packet of M&Ms on the chair on the other side of the couch. He stood up, arms folded, and tried to loom over Hyde without moving. "In that case, someone should call Billie Jean King and tell her she looks a little too much like Steven Hyde. Burn!"

Hyde threw himself at Fez, taking him by the waist and driving him into the couch, already feeling his waist being bruised by Fez's punches. It wasn't that great a burn, but hey. Fez was still learning. They tumbled on the couch, Hyde knowing he was probably scuffing up Fez's jeans, but he didn't care. The son of a bitch was giving him the most painful Indian burn in history.

A pile of arms and legs twisted around on the couch, Fez on top of Hyde and Hyde's arms as stretched out as far as they could go into Fez's face. For a split second, he bobbed his head and it fell straight into Jackie's lap. He would have noticed at the time if they didn't totter right over the couch, hitting the edge of the table on the way down to the floor.

The hard, cold hit to both of their bodies resulted in a primal grunt of pain.

"The Formans should really consider turning up the heat in this house, man," Hyde said, cracking his neck and cradling his forearm. "What did you do, bite me?"

"I don't bite down on men," Fez said, winking at Jackie, now all the way over near the wall. "Both of you win. I have no desire to see _Chico and the Man _now." He crossed to the record player and popped in _Led Zeppelin III._

"What was that?" Jackie asked, still a good distance away from them, behind the far chair.

"Oh, we were just messing around, Yackie," Fez said. "Only Kelso ever really gets hurt."

"From that? I can't believe that's what he whines and cries about missing out on."

"Oh, come on, Jackie. This basement used to be fun until Kelso dragged you into it."

"How can that…" She paused to flay her arms out at the couch, at the table, at the floor. "How can that possibly be fun?"

"Simple. I'll show you." Fez took a step towards her, but her arms flew up to her shoulders.

"Don't show me, just teach me."

"How do you teach someone to wrestle?" Hyde asked.

"Well, maybe not teach, but make me see how it's fun. If Michael thinks it's fun, then it must be fun." She bent down and unstrapped her high-heeled shoes, leaving her feet bare on the cold floor. Wincing at the discomfort, she shivered and placed the heels of her shoes straight against the wall, adjusting the toes so they touched. She ran back and darted her head to and fro, waiting for one of them to take the initiative.

"You're in a dress."

"It's one of my cheaper dresses."

"Uh huh. Well, okay." Hyde remembered there was usually nothing on TV at this time. "Tackle Fez."

"What?" Fez's eyes went wide.

"What?" Jackie repeated.

"Tackle Fez. Look. You just have to learn moves as you go. If you fight him, it'll just come to you."

"Hyde, you're making it sound like I've never been in a fight before."

He blinked at that, wondering how a cheerleader on the Honor Roll could fight anyone. But then, she was a cheerleader and sometimes bitches needed to be put back into their places.

"Well, if you're so experienced, go for it. Get him."

Instead of turning green and pounding Fez like the Hulk in purple pants, her hands flew to her mouth to cover an insane burst of giggles.

"I don't think this is going to happen," Fez said.

"No! I'm sorry." She reached out and touched his arm. "It's just so funny."

"I have an idea," Hyde said. "Maybe if he burns you a bit, it'll give you a bit of a push."

"Like insult me?"

"Just to rile you up a bit."

"Yes. Yes, that is a good idea." Fez brought his hand up to his chin and pretended to stroke a seasoned set of whiskers. "Let's see, something to insult you with. We have a cheerleader, an intoxicatingly beautiful cheerleader with hair like gossamer and skin like porcelain here. Yackie, do you think I could just skip the wrestling and rub your shoulders?"

"Ew."

"Never mind."

"This is pointless," she said. "Hyde, you do it."

"Me?" he laughed. "Oh, where to begin? Okay, I got one. ABBA sucks."

"ABBA does not suck!"

"Oh, believe me, they do. Let's see what else?" He circled her, pretending like he was inspecting her.

_How soft your fields so green,  
Can whisper tales of gore,  
Of how we calmed the tides of war.  
We are your overlords.  
On we sweep with threshing oar,  
Our only goal will be the western shore._

"That's almost over, Fez. Play it back." He focused back on Jackie, enjoying her frazzled state. "Oh yeah, how could I forget this one? That unicorn you saw when you were seven that you tell us about all the time? One-horned goat."

"It was not!" She stomped her foot.

"It was too." He was close now. He could feel it. Fez, buddy, we're in for a fuckin' treat. "Hey, Jackie. Remember last week when Kelso came over here with you and you went upstairs with Donna to bring down pop for everyone?" He waited for her to nod. "Yeah, while you were gone, Kelso told us about your guys' date…in your living room…on your couch…watching _West Side Story_, and you know what he said about it?"

"Don't say it!"

"He said it was the stupidest movie he ever saw and he didn't even get sex for having to watch it with you."

At that, Jackie flew at him, grabbing him by the waist. She was what, like fifty pounds, but she backed him all the way to the freezer.

"Fez!"

Fez ran over to them, pulling on Jackie's waist to pry her off of Hyde, but she jerked back and shoved him. Hyde grabbed her from behind and tried to move all three of them over to the rug, but her little feet dug themselves into the floor, keeping her in place.

His arms tightened around her, changing strategies by taking her to the floor. Just when he got one of her knees to bend, she pulled his forearm up to her and sank her teeth into it.

"You bit me!" he shouted, giving her a mild punch on the shoulder like he often gave her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well, _West Side Story _needed defending."

"Jackie, I didn't say it. Kelso did."

"You brought it up!" Neither of them could keep a straight face. Just about to sigh and go back for her shoes, she plunged to the floor, the coldness shocking her skin. Fez blocked her kicking to get on top of her, but instead he rolled right over her, inducing a breathless "oof" to emit from Jackie's mouth.

Just before Fez was completely over her, Hyde leapt onto her, running his hands up and down her narrow waist.

"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked through explosions of laughter.

"Ticklish, huh? Hear that, Fez?"

"Oh, vengeance will be sweet." The two of them tickled her ribs, blocking out her earsplitting screeches.

"What is going on down here?" a voice demanded from the stairs. Mrs. Forman rushed down, still in her nurse's uniform. "Turn that music down!"

_So now you__'d better stop and rebuild all your ruins,  
For peace and trust can win the day  
Despite of all your losing. _

"Now, boys." Kitty pushed herself in between Hyde and Fez and pulled up Jackie. "She's just a little thing. You'll crush her!" A nervous laugh erupted from her, dusting off Jackie's dress. "Please don't feel the need to tell your father one of my boys mistook you for a ruffian."

"Oh, it's okay, Mrs. Forman. We were just playing."

"Well, okay. You three come up for a snack then. I know playing leads to hunger."

She led them upstairs and lifted the lid to the cake stand on the counter up to reveal a moist, heavily frosted lemon cake. She cut three pieces out and reached up above her to bring down the snack plates from the cabinet. Pushing Fez aside without even having to look at him, she distributed the pieces, handed them out, and retrieved forks for them.

"Now you kids just dig in, but in here. Sweat tends to age the sofa in the living room. Steven, you're bleeding!"

Hyde glanced down at his hand, a deep scratch with a smear of blood edged against it stood out from his skin.

"Oh, Hyde, is that my fault?" Jackie leaned down to ogle it with Mrs. Forman.

"That's cool."

"We'll just cover that up." Mrs. Forman moved to another cabinet and brought down a basket filled with gauze, bandages, and what would be the rest of the contents of a first-aid kit if it were organized. "Now do you want Superman or Spider-Man?"

Damn Forman.

"Uh…I'm good. Thanks."

"No, no. You stay right here, mister, and put on your Band-Aid."

He let Mrs. Forman stick the Band-Aid right over his hand, pat it, and march through the living room and up the stairs to change. Ripping it off the second she was out of sight, he rolled it up and tossed it into the trashcan.

"Shouldn't you leave that on?" Jackie asked him as he returned to his cake.

"Whatever."

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry." She pulled out a clear Band-Aid and placed it over his hand, her fingers all brushing over his. "That one's less embarrassing. Fez, are you hurt?"

"No, my dearest. But I do think I should look you over since your well-being is more important than mine. Now lift up your dress."

He traced the outline of the Band-Aid with his other hand before taking a bite of his cake. For the rest of the afternoon, the three of them sat at the table in silence, like five-year-olds, savoring every morsel of their cake.

* * *

Forman Basement

1978

"Isn't that uncomfortable?" He looked up to see Jackie entering his room.

"Nah. Clears the head." He skimmed what all he had just written, debating whether or not to share it with her. Shit, he wondered if he should even turn it in to Ms. Brewer just to hear her scream at him for not making it vivid enough, for choosing such a crude and boorish memory that couldn't possibly have any significance. And it didn't, did it?

"What are you working on?" She took a seat on the other end of the cot, her heels clicking against the floor.

"That vivid memory essay. Figured I'd give the Brewer bitch a break for once."

"Oh. We have to do it, too. They're making the whole school write one. What did you write about?"

"Oh, uh, I didn't really know what to write about. I don't even know if this will be what I actually turn in. It's not very good."

"Steven," she said, coming closer to him to rub his knee. "I'm sure it's good. And don't try so hard to think of something. You should write about what matters the most to you. Can I read it?"

Before he could even come up with a reason to withhold it from her, she snatched the notebook from him and read. He held his breath, listening to his _Zeppelin III _finally come to an end. Twisting over to go to the record player and take it out, she fingered the edge of his belt and handed the notebook back to him. He knew that look, that pitiful you're-my-knight-in-shining-armor look she gave him whenever he displayed any evidence she had him wrapped around her manicured little finger. Back when they first started dating, she would start gushing and revise a polished monologue about how they had a connection, that he was her soul mate, that he would make a great husband someday and other things that made him cringe, although he didn't know why.

But she didn't say anything. When he thought about it, the look by itself was a little endearing.

"I'm surprised you didn't write about your Munchkins," she said.

"Hobbits!" he yelled back at her, taking _Zeppelin III _out and returning it to his shelf.

* * *

**A/N: More fun times ahead! Please leave reviews. All these flashbacks lead up to one fateful night in 1981. I've already dropped a huge hint of what it is in one of Eric's chapters. Any guesses? I do not own That 70s Show or any of the songs I'm using.**


	17. Memory: Back in the Saddle

Forman Basement

1980

Finding that old assignment in his room had been a fluke. It was one of the things Mom handed down to him, standing on a stepstool and pulling everything off of the top shelf of his closet, his paper about his most vivid memory. After skimming a few pages about trying to sneak some beer down to the rest of the gang, getting the Vista Cruiser, and going out to see Todd Rundgren, he stuck it into a folder and wished he had that paper assigned to him now that he had an even more vivid memory that actually had some substance.

Sweat speckled Eric's face like pebbles in the earth of his mother's geranium garden out front. He could feel the beads gelling together at the base of his neck and the tip of his nose, fusing into a giant salty puddle. The basketball game outside left his shoulders and hips sore.

Thank God for popsicles and pot.

"Is anyone else imagining their popsicle to be a huge orange swimming pool?" Fez asked, bringing his popsicle so close to his face his eyes crossed. "Water should be orange."

"No way," Kelso grunted, his stoned laugh from the back of his throat a warm symbol of home to Eric. "Water should be grape. That way you could be a purple people eater. Oh! If it were red, just imagine! Everyone red when they're wet singing _Rock Lobster_. That's Betsy's favorite song right now. I tried getting her into Barry White so we could, you know, be a united front into getting Brooke in bed, but it's just 'Daddy, sing _Rock Lobster. _Daddy, I can sing _Rock Lobster_.' Man, she's so cute."

"Kelso," Hyde said, clearing his throat. "It's really admirable you've stopped smoking since Brooke let you keep her overnight, but you still sound like a toker to me!"

"Thanks!"

After his hand stopped swirling like a pink finger bush, Eric glanced around the table. It wouldn't be long before the circles would just come to an end completely, each one of them leaving for their own reasons—kids, more trips to Africa. Here it was, a heat wave in September, and it was Fez's first circle since he had come back after hearing that his mom…after his mom. What a year it had been for him, Eric thought, trying that old exercise of putting himself in someone else's shoes, the fiasco that had been dating Jackie, breaking up with her in February of all months, finding out his mom died three weeks after, and back from his homeland just last week. Things couldn't take being put off anymore. They needed to happen now.

"Guys, I'm going to ask Donna to marry me."

"You already did that," Kelso said, rolling his eyes.

"No, not like this. We have the money now. She's started college. I start student-teaching in the fall. I'm going to go for it."

"No offense, Eric," Fez said, licking his now bare popsicle stick. "Donna has been a voluptuous blonde for quite some time now, and as a blonde, her taste has blossomed. She's gone from spam to rib eye."

"But she's dating me!"

"Dating, not engaged."

"No, guys, it's not like that. I really think she'll say yes. I mean, come on. She's committed to me like Princess Leia is committed to the Rebellion."

"Yeah…weren't you the one who thought Princess Leia would get with Luke Skywalker?" Hyde asked.

"Damn it, Hyde! We agreed: rule number nine of the circle is no talking about Princess Leia's choice of love interest in the circle!" His fist thudded the table. It was the same thing that kept him up every night since he came back—if he proposed, would Donna say yes or will he find out that she had in fact moved on even though she was dating him? That New Year's Eve, seeing her outside by herself, her cheeks crimson from the cold and from crying, it was as if nothing changed between them. But it was as if nothing changed between them since they were dating, not since they were engaged. She never once brought up marriage, never let a "when we have kids" moment slip out of her mouth. "Who am I kidding?" he said out loud. "No one would be stupid enough to say yes a second time."

"Whow, man." Hyde stood and, arms folded, towering over Eric, still seated. "Make up your mind."

"Yes, make up your mind," Fez echoed. "We can't go through another failed engagement. You're lucky it didn't break us all up."

"Forman." Eric's head snapped up with the same instinct it had when Red gave him commands. "Do you love her?"

"What an un-Hyde question," was his only comeback. Snappy, Eric. Snappy.

"No, Hyde's got a point. Do you?" Kelso stood up and loomed over him from the other side. Looking across the table at Fez for help, all the little foreigner had to offer was a suggestive eyebrow raise.

"You guys know I do."

"Then you should fight for her, man." Before anyone could argue with him, Hyde marched into the recesses of the basement into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. His mouth opened and giving out a spasm in preparation to speak, Eric flinched at the sudden opening of the door. Hyde barged out, now with his sunglasses and keys. "Going out."

"Where?"

"Just…out."

"Well," Kelso huffed after Hyde left the basement. "Now that we've settled that, what color do you think water should be?"

Hot Donna's shift was about to be over, Eric thought, glancing down at his watch one more time before catching her eye. Still in her booth, her headphones on, she waved him inside just as _Back in the Saddle _finished. Inhaling, he tried to sing the entire song in his head to slow his heartbeat.

_Ridin' into town alone  
By the light of the moon  
I'm looking for ol' Sukie Jones  
She crazy horse saloon  
Barkeep gimme a drink  
That's when she caught my eye_  
_She turned to give me a wink  
That make a grown man cry_

How appropriate. His jaw dropped at the flirtatious wink Donna just gave him. Uh, I'm back/back in the saddle again/I'm back/back in the saddle again/come easy, go easy/all right until the rising sun…

"Hey!" He felt her long arms wrap around him. "I didn't know you were going to pick me up from work. What a surprise."

"I'm calling all the shots tonight/I'm like a loaded gun!" he exclaimed, his trembling hands going numb from the fingertips up to his wrist.

"Wow. It's amazing how you can pull lyrics out like that," she laughed. "Now do _Don't Fear the Reaper."_

"You're signed off and everything, right?" That would be his luck. Serenade the lady with _Back in the Saddle_ and then get down on one knee just when she goes back to her booth to sign off and put the recording on…wait. Should he get down on one knee? Should he get down on one knee now? Damn being more mature than all his friends. The only married man he knew was his dad and he wasn't going to open that can of worms. There was always Bob, he corrected himself, but Midge was so stupid it wouldn't have taken a lavish proposal to win her over. Oh, God, he should have asked Bob for Donna's hand first.

"Hello?" Her pink palm waggling in front of him snapped him out of his reverie. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. There's no need to wave your hand in front of me."

"There was plenty of reason to gesticulate my hand in front of you. You looked like those little gymnasts after we announced we were boycotting the Olympics, and yeah, gesticulate. It's my new word. It means 'to wave,' but it sounds cooler. Do you think it sounds a little dirty, too? I'll have to use it in front of Fez. He usually lets me know."

"Donna…" Peelin' off my boots and chaps/I'm saddle sore/Four bits gets you time in the racks/I scream for more.

"You want to go get some pizza tonight? That just sounds so good. I've been thinking about splitting a pizza with you all day."

"Donna…" No tongue's drier than mine/I'll come when I get back.

"Oh, and I decided I'm going to dye my hair back to red. I don't know. I felt like I lost a little part of me when I changed it the first time."

"Donna, I love you." Dropping to his knee, he took her hand, memorizing every vein, every pore rather than look up and see her expression. "The only reason I went to Africa in the first place was for us, and I know you deserve so much more. Please marry me, Donna. Please." It cramped his neck to look up at her face, tears gushing from her eyes.

"Yes."

"Really?" Springing to his feet, he brought her to him, the familiar touch and smell of her assuring him it was no dream. He pulled back just enough to see her nod her head again and again, a grin breaking out across her face. "It's just that…you haven't talked about getting married since I've been back. I thought you had changed your mind." Gathering her into him again, he could feel his heart slowing, calmed now in the reassurance they would always be together.

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more," she sobbed.

* * *

**A/N: Aw, a proposal. Want to read more flashbacks and finally get to 1981? You'll have to leave a review! Vivid Memory assignment is about to come to a close as the gang reflects on another important factor of their teenage years: lust. But one step at a time. I do not own That 70s Show or Back in the Saddle. I'd be much richer if I did.**


	18. Memory: That's Me

En Route to the Hub

1977

Jackie bounced up and down in the passenger seat. Finally, after countless failed attempts, Steven Hyde was driving her car and taking her to the Hub, and not only that, she reminded herself, but he defended her honor, beating what's-his-name to a pulp earlier at the Formans' party. If only it had happened in front of her and she had been there to hear just how it happened. Laughing to herself, she imagined Hyde probably wouldn't have had the chance to stick up for her at all since she would have laid into…she really couldn't remember his name…that guy herself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Where are we going?"

"Well," Hyde sighed, shifting his weight. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure. I didn't eat much earlier, and I don't think you did either." No. He was too busy, first brooding over her and then setting a precedent to the entire party that anyone who dares call Jackie Burkhart a bitch must suffer his wrath.

"You mind if I turn on the radio?"

She shook her head, hoping music would ease them into some sort of conversation, even if it was that loud crap he played all the time. Some songs of the bands he liked had decent songs. There was one Led Zeppelin song she overheard him playing in his room one day that sent shivers down her spine, something that started out, "It's the springtime of my loving," but she would have to wait until she heard it again or Zeppelin came up in conversation to ask which one it was, and conversation didn't seem an option at the moment.

Suddenly, her ears zeroed in on a familiar piano intro.

"Oh! Will you leave it on here, please, Steven, please?" Two female voices crooned out the most intriguing first line to a song Jackie ever knew. "Are you sure you wanna hear more/what if I ain't worth the while/not the style you'd be lookin' for…" Pausing to bite her lip, she blushed. "You can get rid of it."

"That's cool."

There was that ambiguity she mastered not long ago, but still could not decipher, which was the exact effect she knew he wanted it to have on her. Judging by the fact he didn't adjust the knob himself, she continued. "Would I be the one you seek/ Mild and meek like the girl next door/ Don't you realize/ I may be an angel in disguise/It's lonely to be free."

"Their songs all sound alike," he said, making a last-minute left turn, sending her reeling in his direction.

"I could say the same thing about some of your bands."

"I doubt that."

"Oh, I so could! I can't even tell them apart from each other most of the time." That wasn't quite true. She knew Led Zeppelin's sound apart from Todd Rundgren, whom she was shocked he actually liked, but the two of them sounded closer than say, Led Zeppelin and Peaches and Herb.

"All I'm saying, Jackie, is that ABBA's music all sounds alike."

"And I said you could get rid of it if you wanted."

When no attempt was made for the knob, she rocked her body in time with the song, cocking her head from one side to the other. "I don't believe in fairy-tales/ Sweet nothings in my ear/ But I do believe in sympathy/That's me, you see."

He pulled up in front of the Hub, one hand in his pocket. She watched him pull out a wad of wrinkled singles, unfolding them to see just how many lay in the heap. Stepping out of the car with him, she took his arm, surprised that he didn't shake out of her grasp.

"You don't have to pay for me, Steven."

"No, I got it. What do you want?"

You, she thought about saying, but he knew that. Exhaling, she ordered just a burger, hoping his order was larger and more expensive. Wondering if feeling ashamed of having money was a far improvement from being proud of it, she jumped when he held her burger out to her, wrapped in the neat white paper the Hub called one of its staples. Instead of finding a table, Hyde walked back outside and to the car. If this is what he called a date…

"You want to go to Mt. Hump?"

"Like a picnic?" Her eyes widened, a grin about to form. "Yeah!"

"Well, we'd eat on the way, unless you like cold burger. Can't say I'm a fan."

Back in the car, she unwrapped her burger, the paper warming her hands and the melted cheese warming her from the inside out once she bit into it. The car bumped its way up the rocky path to Mt. Hump, named by some adults a long time ago for being an actual hump, it now just sparked laughter from kids on their way up there to make out, or more. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quelled it with another bite. Yeah right. If Steven Hyde brought her up here to make out, or more, she'd send all her stuffed animals to the Salvation Army.

Finally at the top of the hill, he parked the car, stretching his arms, empty wrapper still in his hand.

"You can just leave it in the car. I'll throw it away when I get home." Forcing him to listen to a band he hated and paying for her dinner, she knew her gesture likened more to a little kid holding up a piece of string expecting an engineer to build a bridge out of it, but she was at a loss as to how to make the date more enjoyable for him. Best not mention the "bitch incident," as she decided to call it in her mind. Think, Jackie. What does Hyde like? "Donna said Eric tried serenading her with _Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay_, trying to put her in the mood, but he forgot the words in the middle and started humming, and then she started laughing. Yep. She told me all it needed was a sinister clown and a black cat to make it something out of one of her nightmares." Gasping, she scolded herself for announcing all that in one breath. If Hyde didn't like rich cheerleaders, he would like oxygen-deprived rich cheerleaders even less.

"Yeah?" he laughed. "Forman didn't tell me that."

"Yeah." Gaining courage, she hopped up onto the hood of the car next to him, ignoring the chilly metal freezing her through her clothes. "I hope she swore him to secrecy then, because she didn't do that with me!"

Hyde didn't answer her, instead staring down towards the pond. The kids that lived closer to this side of town chose to skinny dip in it rather than the reservoir, but on an afternoon like this, the only activity down there were a few hikers, backpacks strapped on and all, staggering up and down the hills. Watching them, she felt something touch the back of her arm. From the corner of her eye, she saw his fingertips strum the back of her arm like a guitar. Her breath hitched, melting at the sensation, and the fact he didn't even seem aware he was doing it, like touching her was an instinct, something that came as natural as blinking.

Too afraid to speak, she set her teeth onto the tip of her tongue, forcing her mouth to stay closed. Her head spun with all the options she had, all of which could easily lead to breaking their interlude, make him stop touching her. The memory of the last time she really touched him flooded her brain. In a car, he had brushed a lock of her hair out of her face, setting it behind her ear, only to hurl himself away when her lips grazed his.

But it was almost as if that wasn't the same person as the man here now, next to her, his fingers taking her silence to mean compliance. Leaving her arm, they played with a small chunk of her hair, caressing the back of her neck every now and then. Just about to break her resolution to stay quiet, he wrenched his hand off of her and sat it in his lap, more or less sitting with his hands folded like a little girl in church.

Her neck and hands suddenly felt a biting cold. Maybe one little compliment would be enough to reel him back to her.

"This is the best date ever."

"Jackie, we haven't talked for thirty minutes."

Is that how much time had gone by? She hadn't noticed at all.

XXX

The sun sank down into the treetops, banishing the hikers down in the clearing below them.

"When did Mrs. Forman tell you to be back?"

"We got a while. Red's too pissed at Bob right now to notice if I bust curfew." Above his glasses, she saw his eyebrow twitch, his mouth tightening. She couldn't be sure, but those were all signs of frowning. Playing…and singing…to ABBA in the car, making him pay, somehow doing something to end his voluntary touches. She even resorted to pulling his arm around her earlier, the pop freezing her in spite of the fact the ice melted long ago, fusing with the Coke into a watery nothingness swirling around in the bottom of the cup.

"Do you have to be back at a certain time?" he asked.

"Oh no. Martina won't care what time I get back, less for her to clean up after that way."

His back straightened, tensed even, and Jackie could make no sense of it.

"Your mom's not home?"

"She's usually not around this time of year. She likes to head down to Buenos Aires in November. Yeah," she said, folding her hands. "Yeah, back around February, she went on her annual trip to Paris."

"But it's November."

"But it's okay because she said she'd get to see all this season's games, or at least come to the halftime shows to watch me cheer, but then some of her friends really needed her down in Chicago, so she left for there back in the summer, and once school starts, it just gets really cold for her, so she plans a trip down south." She laughed, shrugging her shoulders and pressing her lips together at how pathetic it all was. "She's like a swallow that way. Not that she swallows, I'm sure. Mom seems like a spits kind of girl. But it's no big deal because she and I aren't that close anyway. We are when she's home, but that's not too often, and she gets on me about yelling at her for not being home. It just becomes this circle because I hate her, but I wouldn't yell at her if I didn't love her…" she trailed off, the last four words pressing down on her chest like boulders. It sent her body quaking. Shaking off the tears welling up in her eyes, she felt a weight on her shoulders. Hyde placed his jacket over her, looking at her like he had never seen her before.

"You were shivering."

Jackie wiggled her arms into it, soaking in the warmth of the fabric that smelled like Eric's basement, the Forman kitchen, and the sunshine itself all rolled into one. Hyde still looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Yielding to it, she stuck out her hand and bumped the edge of the lens of his sunglasses.

"Isn't it getting kind of dark to still have those on?"

"That's just how I roll, baby." She laughed at the tone, the tone that was the same when he joked with the guys down in the basement, sitting in that decrepit chair with a smirk on his face. Making sure to tap his cheekbone once, she brought her hand back down. Had she broken some kind of barrier with him? It was so much more a mental exercise than it was with Michael.

"Thanks," she said. "I don't tell a lot of people that, not even Michael."

"Really?"

That was a new tone, she noticed, jerking her head, like it was something he had expected her to say, but not in a mocking way, more like he was actually agreeing with her. Burrowing into the jacket, she waited for him to shiver from the cool breeze blowing by, but that moment never came.

"Well, our first date's almost over," she said. Something told her Red would still notice if one of his boys wasn't home by dark.

"Yep."

"What did you think?" She leaned to the side, about to nudge him.

"It was no worse than bowling. I don't hate bowling."

Unable to resist any longer, she kissed him, just a light brush on his lips, but she couldn't lift her head back up, leaving her just enough time to make note of the fact that his head hadn't lifted either. Before she could think, her hand held the side of his head, keeping him locked in to her. His knuckles pressed into her thigh as he leaned in further, opening his mouth. Her heart about to break away from her body, she fought every instinct to grab onto him, pull him even closer to her, and invite him into her right here on the hood of the car. He would be such a good boyfriend, so many layers to unravel and figure out, an endless puzzle for her. It would be so nice to not have to use his sleeves as a leash to keep him from running off whenever they went anywhere like Michael.

Michael.

No, she thought, giving in to the craving her lips were quivering for, Steven's so much smarter than Michael, so much more complex. Just about to rejoice that she had finally bagged her man after so long, she broke away from him. Flashes of all the girls that had been in his room danced around in her head, creeping out of the dark like shadow puppets. Michael was a complete idiot compared to Steven, and yet he had been the one that strayed, not her. A smart man would lose interest even sooner. A difficult man would find her too simple, too shallow, and she couldn't stand to hear him say those words.

"Okay, I didn't feel anything," she stammered, summoning up that capricious little minx that won her Michael in the first place.

"Nothing?"

"No, I mean the kiss was hot, but…well, did you feel something?" Her heart raced at the sight of his confused expression, stunned even. He hesitated before answering, finally turning away from her and pawing his lips. Maybe they felt as on fire as hers did. Her fingers could develop frostbite for all she cared—the sensation would come and go without her ever feeling it. Maybe he would pull her head towards his and take her, cup her cheeks, run those long fingers up and down her back, but no. He just sat there, still stunned, and hopefully, Jackie thought, dazed.

"Well, I guess that's it." She nudged him, just a little, eager to crawl into his arms and straddle him. "Turns out you were right about us all along."

"Yep."

"So what happens now?" Would he convince the others to expel her from the basement? Spread some rumor she was a tease? Would he start pursuing her now that he knew the two of them could never be? It gave her a headache, thinking so much.

"I'm not opposed to doing it."

"Take me home, you pig!" She shoved him, unable to restrain her laughter. Her first day as Steven Hyde's friend, not enemy or lover, but friend. She could live with that, for a while, in time.

* * *

**A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to write, for obvious reasons. Have you noticed on the show just how often the kids say each other's names in conversation? It doesn't sound quite natural, but saying someone's name when you're talking to them is an unconscious way of saying you're devoting your attention to them, so I tried to include that into all the chapters. Did you notice Hyde is dazed and confused? A call back to an earlier chapter, perhaps? There is also a call forward to 1981, the last chapter that will be in this story, but we'll wait and see if you get it. Well, did you enjoy their vivid memories? In the next section, the kids will deal with the fun and heartbreak and confusion that come with lust.**


	19. Lust: You're So Vain

Forman Basement

1978

_You walked into the party  
Like you were walking onto a yacht  
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye  
Your scarf it was apricot  
You had one eye in the mirror  
As you watched yourself gavotte  
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner_

"Donna! Phone!"

Letting out a grunt at Red's blaring interruption of the best chorus of a song Donna knew, she pried herself up off the couch, the rest of the gang leering at her. Well, she thought, everyone except Eric. Only she saw him puff his cheeks up a bit, keeping his eyes focused on the album cover. Donna wondered if she covered it up and quizzed him on it if he would get a single question right.

"Come on, Eric. You don't know it's Kasey." She tussled his hair. "My dad might just be tired of walking over and hearing Red make fun of his National Guard days."

"Well, if that is the case, he is the only one who is tired of it," Fez laughed, crossing his arms. "That man is hilarious."

"It's that Kasey kid," Red grunted, handing the phone over to her the minute she stepped up into the kitchen. "He can call you at your own house, you know."

"But then it wouldn't be romantic," Fez said, reaching into the refrigerator.

"I know the phrase 'own house' is foreign to you, Haji, but there are plenty of people downstairs to get you up to speed."

If the two of them bantered any further, she couldn't hear it, the lackadaisical voice of Kasey, with a fraction of a twang, called her by her last name, always drawing out the last syllable. When he was around, her eyes couldn't leave his mouth. There was something about how the corners turned up, sucking in the insides just a little.

"Pinciotti, did you hear me?"

"Yeah, of course I did." It wouldn't matter. She was smarter than he was.

"Great. So I'll be by there in about ten minutes."

"Great. I'll see you…" But she heard the click on the other side. It was another one of those things that didn't matter. Kasey was coming to pick her up and take her somewhere! Fighting the urge to spin around the room like she could so easily see Jackie do, she instead opened the refrigerator door and pulled out an orange, after deciding that a slice of provolone would drain any sweetness from her breath and that a Coke might tack on a few yellow stains to her teeth. Positioning her fingers to peel it, she looked up at Fez, trying to burn her with his gaze…and failing, she thought.

"What?"

"Why are you so giggly with him?"

"I am not. He's coming by in a few minutes to pick me up, so I'd appreciate it if you guys didn't look like a posse about to string him up." Her nail missed the orange, releasing only the tangy aroma as punishment.

"Yes, you are. You're worse than Yackie is with Kelso."

"You take that back, Fez!"

"No." He folded his arms and stuck his chin out at her. "Kasey is a perverted creep and you are hurting Eric."

"You're a perverted creep!"

"Yes, but I don't hurt my friends and loved ones. Now good day." Presenting her with the palm of his hand, he carried his Hershey bar, chilled from being stored in the refrigerator all day, down to the basement. Driving her nails in to the orange, she peeled at it until her knuckles turned white, the orange pulp splashing onto them. She wasn't tagged to Eric like she was his puppy, and here they all were acting like she belonged to him and was cheating on him when they hadn't been together for… She sighed at the number and at the fact she knew the exact length of time they had been apart, the sharp scent of the orange tapping on her nostrils. Biting into it, she let some of the juice spray onto the kitchen floor. Kasey wouldn't care that she was making a mess. No, sir. Jackie would. She would shriek and demand Donna stop acting like she was raised in a barn, and stop dressing like it while they were on the subject. Kelso would be too dumb to really make a comment, but he would probably state that if he were the one making a mess she would tell him to grab a towel and clean it all up. Hyde? Hyde had no right to say anything to anybody. He had just finished chasing after her and trying to "steal" her from Eric not too long ago and it was time somebody took him down a peg.

The thought of Eric made her take another bite. Hadn't it been ten minutes?

Plopping into one of the kitchen chairs, she finished off the orange, her lips stinging from the tartness. Licking the juice off her fingers, she knew she should wash her hands before Kasey came. He always interlocked her fingers with his before guiding them to where he wanted them, usually down to his balls. So far, she had only touched them through his pants, but it wouldn't be long now before that would escalate and then he would touch her, massage the parts of her that throbbed with simple, primeval want that had only grown stronger since she and Eric…decided to be just friends.

The soft chimes of the clock made her finally rise and run her hands under the faucet. Lathering the soap and mixing its lavender scent with the orange made her close her eyes and take a deep inhale. Thirty minutes had passed since she came upstairs. That couldn't be right, she thought. Kasey said ten minutes and it's not like the Kelsos lived that far away. Kelso could make it to the Forman house in fifteen minutes walking, ten if he rode his bike, five if he drove in his van, seven if Jackie was in there with him since it took him about two minutes to finish with her. Thirty minutes? Were the rest of them still even downstairs?

Poking her head down the staircase, she could hear the record playing, a few undecipherable words from voices of different timbres, different pitches that she knew as well as her own voice. She planted her foot on the first step, then braced the wall. No, Kasey would come, she nodded, heading back into the kitchen. They would all know it and know she was out having fun with him while they were sitting in that basement spending the rest of the evening deciding what they were going to do for the evening. They'd done it all down there—poker tournaments, wrestling matches. Hell, last night, they played _Name That Tune_ with Eric and Hyde's records. There were even some in there that belonged to the rest of them, left here because they spent more time here than anywhere else. Maybe she should go downstairs.

"Where ya been hiding, Pinciotti?"

Turning her head so fast her hair swished, she saw Kasey come in through the kitchen door, his laughing eyes glittering and his arms out, waiting for her to come to him.

"Smells like oranges in here," he said.

"Yeah. You told me ten minutes."

"Traffic, baby."

Donna chuckled, heightening into a squeal at the end. Immersing herself into his leather jacket, she breathed it in, the faint scents of cigarette smoke and Old Spice fused together. She felt his hands wrap around her back, worming up under her shirt to unhook her bra. It was the second time he played that game, unclasping her bra and telling her to leave it that way wherever they went. It was like walking around naked with nobody noticing.

"I guess that means you forgive me." Before she could answer, he hoisted her upper lip away from her bottom one and slid his tongue into her.

_You're so vain  
You probably think this song is about you  
You're so vain  
I'll bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you? Don't you?_

"Ready to go?"

"Where are we going?" Her cheeks burned. Her hands flew up to them, imaging them as orange as the fruit she'd just been sucking on a few minutes prior.

"Does it matter?"

No. No, it didn't matter at all. He was here, which meant in a matter of seconds, both of them wouldn't be here, and her friends would come up the stairs and realize Kasey hadn't forgotten her, hadn't discarded her, and Eric would just have to get over her and find another girl to crush on for years and years.

_You had me several years ago  
When I was still quite naive  
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair  
And that you would never leave  
But you gave away the things you loved  
And one of them was me  
I had some dreams_

_They were clouds in my coffee_


	20. Lust: Christine Sixteen

Forman Basement

1977

"Michael's cheating on me, isn't he?" he heard Jackie moan. He stayed in place at the top of the stairs. Aw no. Letting his head droop, he listened for an answer. She could be talking to herself, he thought. The princesses in movies sometimes do that. It was kind of funny imagining Jackie with her pinkies in the air, arms extended, doing a full spin down in the basement like they did, especially if she wore the kind of skirt that fluffed out like a parachute.

"Oh, would you look at that? My Luke Skywalker action figure is playing the world's smallest violin for you."

Okay, good, Kelso thought. That's Forman. If it had been Donna, or Laurie herself, the lopsided grin on his face would be torn off his face by Tornado Jackie, rushing at him with her arms and legs flailing, eyebrows risen so high they were about to blast into outer space. Minus the yelling, she was cute when she was angry, but that was just a tease. Jackie was like one of Charlie's Angels. Yeah, she was beautiful and fun…most of the time…but she could destroy him.

"Oh, really, Eric? And is the world's smallest violin bow on the other side of those skinny, cheap, tapered jeans?"

Burn! He bit down on his knuckles to avoid running down the stairs two at a time and whirling her around in his arms. This was so great! All her suspicions somehow changed into anger at Forman, unless Forman got mad enough to blow the lid off of everything. Covering his gasp with his hands, he waited for someone, anyone, to speak and join in on the sound his heart was making.

"I'll have you know this bow has played some of the finest concertos known to man…and by that I mean that I can please Donna!"

Smooth, Forman. Smooth.

"Are violin pieces concertos?" Jackie asked in a far different tone.

"I don't know. You're the rich one. Don't you know?"

"Hey, guys. What'd I miss?" Letting his arms flap as he landed the last step, he moved to the freezer and pulled out a cherry popsicle, little ice flecks still clinging to the wrapper, the perfect temperature.

"Michael! You can't eat that now! We're staying over here for dinner."

"Wait. What?" Eric's eyes bulged.

"Yeah. Your mom said we could stay for dinner and this gives Michael some extra practice in being a gentleman around people he's comfortable with. Just think—if you can graduate from the Forman table, you can finally start coming to my parents' dinner parties." She clapped her hands and batted her eyelashes at him. Damn, they were long, longer than his. He wondered if Laurie's were longer.

"Yeah, Forman. Your mom was so excited she made place cards. I'm seated across from Laurie."

"Well, gee whiz, Kelso. However will you pass the time if you're seated across from Laurie?" Eric stood and walked over to the steps. "I'm going to tell Mom she's a little confused."

"So, Jackie, now that we're alone, I figure you might like a popsicle of your own." Sliding his arm around her on the couch, he cocked his head back. He'd worked all day on that line and thought of no response other than, "ooh, of course, Michael."

"I can't believe you're going to finish eating that after I told you not to."

"But it's gonna go to waste if I don't!"

"It's a popsicle, Michael! If you put it in the freezer, it'll freeze and you can have it for dessert, unless Mrs. Forman is making dessert. If that's the case, you'll just have to come down here when it's all over."

No amount of loud music or firecrackers hurt his ears like Jackie's voice did. She was such a shrill little…what was that word? Hyde had called her a shrew, which sounded pretty bad. Forman always called her a snob, and that was right on the money if anyone bothered to ask Kelso, but she was his snob, his shrew. She bought him things and complimented him and made all the tough decisions and, in exchange, she got to take his arm and be seen with him.

"Come on, baby. It's lasagna. It won't be ready for at least twenty minutes." Leaning over her, he reached for her neck with his lips, brushing the corner of her jawbone with them instead.

"Ow! Your face is all stubbly."

"I thought you'd like a rugged look." Taking her shoulders, he guided her down until she lied on the couch with him on top of her, his legs dangling over the arm.

_She's got me dizzy, she sees me through to the end  
She's got me in her hands and there's no use in pretending  
Christine sixteen, Christine sixteen  
She drives me crazy, I want to give her all I've got  
And she's hot every day and night, there is no doubt about it_

It was the smell of her hair, the smell she called lilac that was driving him wild. Maybe this time it wouldn't hurt her. The first time had been so slow. She whimpered and winced and when it was all over, she didn't want to snuggle up to him like her _Cosmos _said she would. He thought it would get easier for her over time, but each time she acted like she didn't enjoy it at all.

"You go too fast when you wedge it in there," she said.

"I'll go extra slow."

"You always say that and it's always too fast." Pushing him off of her, she stomped up the stairs.

* * *

"Did you really have to write a card telling me to sit in the seat I always sit in?" Red swatted the place card, sending it down to the floor. "And if we're going to have a dinner party, why can't we invite people our own age? Why do we have to constantly entertain…them?" He stuck his hand in front of Jackie and Kelso.

"Because, dear. Think of it this way—Steven's not here tonight and so that only makes one extra child we would have here anyways, except Laurie who's with us for some reason tonight." Ladling out portions of lasagna onto everyone's plate, she frowned at Laurie's toothy smile. "So it's only two extra kids than we normally have around here for dinner. It means I baked more lasagna, which means more leftovers."

"Actually, Mom, Kelso's been known to inhale anything set in front of him, so I don't see any leftovers in the near future."

"He's got a point, Mrs. Forman," Kelso said. This looked great. Between himself and the little card with his name on it, a large plate of lasagna and sweetened iced tea called out his name, tugging at his stomach. Across from him, Laurie winked at him. Debating whether or not to wink back, he lurched at the sensation on his leg.

"I'm sorry, Kelso. Did I kick you?" Laurie asked, her hand flying to heart.

"Uh, it's okay. Just be more careful next time." Looking over at Jackie, she shook her head at him and placed her napkin on her lap. Still feeling Laurie's foot sliding up his leg, underneath his pant leg, he placed his napkin on his lap also, gripping the edges.

"All right, everyone," Mrs. Forman said, sitting down and lifting her glass. "Here's to friendship and camaraderie and all the wonderful things that can come of tonight."

He was going to come tonight if Laurie's foot went any higher. Scooting his chair back, he panted at the friction from the shag carpeting, catching the legs at every inch. It was hot, yeah, but Jackie was right next to him. What could Laurie be thinking? She smirked at him from across the table, leaning over the plate of garlic bread to expose her cleavage to him.

"You know, Laurie," Eric coughed, sifting his tea like it was a brandy. "I got an interesting phone call today from a man who sounded in about, his, oh, late thirties, early forties, asking for you, saying to meet him at your special place and you would know what that meant. Do you?"

"It's not polite to make up lies at the table, Eric," she snapped back, "especially when it's your friends crowding up all the space. Isn't that right, Daddy?"

It was the way she said "daddy," like any man in the world could be her daddy, that about sent him over the edge.

"I'm going to go out for a smoke," Kelso cried, knocking over the chair on his way to the front door. Just when his fingertips brushed the knob, he heard the inevitable.

"Honey, you don't smoke," Mrs. Forman said at the same time Jackie commanded, "Michael, you come back here and act like a gentleman!"

"Did I say smoke? I meant get some fresh air."

Only the porch light shone down on him, the rest of the neighborhood shrouded in a dark, misty fog. He could barely see Donna's house or any of the ones across the street. It was like something out of _The Wolf Man_ except the real danger waited him inside, and it wasn't a man, or a wolf. Come to think of it, it wasn't like _The Wolf Man _at all.

"Hanging out here all by yourself?"

He yelped at Laurie's voice behind him.

"Laurie! I was just stargazing. Yeah. I hear it builds muscles."

"I see. Want to go out back and have a little fun?"

She had pulled down on the sleeves of her peasant top, exposing her shoulders just slightly. Running her fingers through her own hair, she tossed it behind her shoulder and gave him a giggle.

_I don't usually say things like this to girls your age, but when I saw you  
Coming out of the school that day, that day I knew, I knew, I've got to have  
You, I've got to have you.  
She's been around, but she's young and clean  
I've got to have her, can't live without her, whoo no  
Christine sixteen, Christine sixteen_

"Hey, now. They're all right on the other side of the door!" His back arched at the touch of her hands on his chest.

"Oh, please. Red's taken care of. Kitty and Eric are powerless, and it would just be too pathetic for you to be afraid of that tiny little doll in there. Didn't she once tell you she thought she saw a real unicorn once? You wouldn't want me to let it slip to her that you blabbed her special moment to everyone, would you? I mean, that's as bad as cheating on her with your friend's sister."

It was the same words she said all the time, whenever he felt like backing out, but they always bit, always stung...until she kissed him and cupped his balls. She grinded against his hips.

_Christine, Christine, sixteen, sixteen, Christine, yeah, yeah  
Christine, Christine, sixteen, sixteen  
Christine, yeah, yeah, yeah_

* * *

**A/N: Sigh, lust causes so much angst among teenagers...so glad I'm not one anymore. I think you'll learn a lot about our heroes in this segment. I do not own any of the Carly Simon songs, or the KISS ones, or the Billy Joel ones, or the Led Zeppelin ones, or the Aerosmith ones, or the ABBA ones. What I recommend is going on youtube or something and listening to these songs in a separate window as you read the chapter. That's what I did when I was writing and I actually felt like I was part of the 70s, that I was part of our beloved gang. Anyway, I don't own a thing, but if I do have that swing, leave a review! I know people are reading and not leaving them. You know who you are... Reviews are like a naked Hyde jumping out of a cake for most of you...wonderful to look at and even more fun to visit again and again and again.**


	21. Lust: The Stranger

The Hub

1977

"West bound and down/eighteen wheels are rollin'/we're gonna do what they say can't be done/We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there/I'm west bound, just watch ol' "Bandit" run," Fez and Caroline sang together between mouthfuls of fries, giggling when they finished the first verse, which is, let's face it, Fez thought, the only part worth knowing.

"I never get tired of that movie," he said, his arm around her. Hyde couldn't be right about her. Her blonde hair fell in waves right at her shoulder blades. Her voice was so high and her nose so pointed—she reminded him of a little bird, and if his little bird choked herself every now and then, that might just be a quirk. Besides, if he broke up with her now, she might not stop the next time she chose to play her innocent choking game.

"Neither do I! It's so great we have so much in common." She took a sip of her pop through her straw, gazing at him the entire time.

"You know, Caroline, I was thinking maybe I would take you out tonight and," he bent his head and lifted an eyebrow, "take things to the next level."

"That sounds so great, Fez! That would just be the best thing that could ever happen to me." She picked up the seat of her chair while still sitting in it and brought it as close to his as she could. "Making love to you would give me a reason to live," she whispered into his ear, giving his earlobe a slight lick. Sexy, yes, but the words prevented the effect he always thought Caroline licking his ear would have on him.

"Hey, there is Hyde! I will be right back." Tripping over the leg of the chair, he whirled around before running up to the counter. "Hi!"

"Hey. You're still going with her?"

"Hyde, I said I wanted to 'take things to the next level,'" he said, bending his head down and using the same tone as before, "and she said yes and started licking me, and if I have seen _Whatever Happened to Baby Jane_, which I have, that is not a sign she is crazy!"

"So when you listed her symptoms, the whole choking thing is just a fluke, huh?"

"So, may I borrow the El Camino? I would be so careful with it and Caroline says it is her favorite car."

"What? No! That's my car, Fez, and I think she's a nut-job. Every time I get into it, it would be like _Sybil_ had had sex in my car."

"I am pretty sure she is still herself when she chokes herself."

"Forget it. Borrow the Vista Cruiser."

"But it is not sexy."

"Hi," Caroline said, walking up to the counter and lacing her arms through Fez's which were on his hips. "I missed you, baby. Are you going to be done talking soon?"

"You know, Caroline," Hyde said while paying for his pop. "I heard you liked my El Camino."

"It's a great car, Hyde."

"Yeah, I agree. Are you thinking about getting a car?" He looked at Fez even though the question was directed to her.

"Someday soon, once I get enough money. If I could land an El Camino just like that, it would be so perfect!"

"Uh huh. Well, just throwing out a hypothetical here, and you don't have to engage in it if you don't want to, but let's say you get that car, waxed, great condition, and I just come along and ram into it, again and again and again."

"You just rammed my car?" Caroline blinked at him, her jaw set. Fez backed away from her.

"Not on purpose, but let's say I'm just an incompetent driver. You come out and are shocked. That's your baby, ruined! And I'm running up to you, feeling really terrible and offering to pay for the damage. Will you humor me and tell me what your reaction would be?"

"You son of a bitch!" she shrieked, hurling her Styrofoam cup at him. "Sorry. I thought there would be some pop left in it. Fez, I'm so lucky you aren't as insensitive as your friends." She jerked her body towards Hyde, acting like it would intimidate him. "There's no one like you in the world. I'll see you tonight." She stomped out of the Hub.

"Oh my," he sniffled. "But, a chance to do it trumps severe anger issues, right?"

"What are you guys talking about?"

Fez flew into Hyde's arms, breathing a sigh of relief that it was Jackie and not Caroline returning for more craziness.

"Oh, it's just you, Yackie. I thought it was Caroline. Both your voices are so high-pitched, not to mention your nosiness."

"I just saw her leave."

"Yeah, get this," Hyde said. "She chokes herself."

"What? Fez, that's dangerous. You should get rid of her."

"Listen to your friends, man!" Hyde punched his arm. "We're all telling you the same thing. Dump her ass and find somebody who doesn't choke herself. The world's full of 'em! In fact, there are more chicks who don't choke themselves than those that do. I'd bet money on it."

"Is Michael around?"

"No. He is…administering to the homeless," Fez lied, biting his lip. Snapping his eyes shut, he waited for another punch to the arm, but one never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw Jackie near the exit, waving her little hand at him.

"Okay, whatever. Tell him I'm looking for him if he comes by. He's probably chasing a dog around a fire hydrant or something."

"Oh, I am so torn! To do it or not to do it. It is something out of Shakespeare. You can't think of any reason to do it, Hyde?"

"What?"

"You can't think of any reason for me to do it with Caroline?"

"Oh." Hyde shook his head, finally looking away from the exit. "No. Get rid of her. No good'll come from that chick, Fez. It's just going to be a giant headache." He nodded, gaining confidence with each bob of his head. "Yeah. Take her out one more time, public place, and tell her it's not working out. She may not kill herself and you can be a free man again. It's not that hard to get over a girl, man. Just takes a lot of willpower…a lot of willpower. Hey, I'm heading home. Want a ride?"

* * *

After his host parents warned him one more time about the Grateful Dead and their breed, Fez threw some Billy Joel onto the record player, applying one more spray of cologne just at the point where his shoulder met his neck, and waited on the couch. Arms resting on the head on either side of him, his chest swelled. They were all wrong. They just didn't know Caroline the way he did. Who were all of his friends to judge, anyway? Their love lives amounted to a three-car pile-up on the highway while his was now a smooth, winding country ride.

Jumping from the knocking at the door, he answered it to find Caroline gussied up in the tightest plaid skirt he had ever seen. Knee-high boots covered the rest of her slender legs.

"I hope you feel like staying in tonight, my sweet."

"That sounds good to me." She ran her hand up his chest before taking a seat, crossing her legs. She scrunched her skirt up to reveal her knees. "And you're playing Billy Joel? Oh, Fez, this is going to be the best night ever!"

_Well we all have a face  
That we hide away forever  
And we take them out and  
Show ourselves  
When everyone has gone  
Some are satin some are steel  
Some are silk and some are leather  
They're the faces of the stranger  
But we love to try them on_

Throwing himself down onto the couch, he hovered over Caroline, tilting her face up and smashing his lips onto hers. Her legs wrapping around his waist, he broke their kiss just long enough to droop his lips down to the side of her neck. Such heavenly moans, he thought, fumbling with her sweater. At last he found the end of it and lodged his hand inside it, trailing her ribs until he reached the skin right under her breast.

"Take me, Fez," she groaned. She bucked at the touch, sending the heels of her boots into his back, the heels kneading into him.

_Well we all fall in love  
But we disregard the danger  
Though we share so many secrets  
There are some we never tell  
Why were you so surprised  
That you never saw the stranger  
Did you ever let your lover see  
The stranger in yourself?_

"Are you sure?" Contorting his body to dodge her legs while he sat up, his hands flew to his zipper.

"Now, Fez! Now, or I swear to God I'll shred this couch!"

_Once I used to believe  
I was such a great romancer  
Then I came home to a woman  
That I could not recognize  
When I pressed her for a reason  
She refused to even answer  
It was then I felt the stranger  
Kick me right between the eyes_

It was enough to kill the mood, among other things, he thought, zipping his pants back up. What if they did it and he wasn't good? Here in the house, the kitchen was no more than a few feet away and boasted dozens of knives, scissors, heavy fire extinguishers with which to bludgeon him. Or what if he was doing great and the phone rang and he mistakenly said the caller's name? He could see it so vividly, doing it with her on his host parents' bed until he would back away in horror at Caroline's head turn a full three hundred and sixty degrees before spitting something like pea soup at him. The power of Christ compels you, he would chant, scurrying to the door, but all for not.

"Fez? What's wrong?"

"Oh. Um…" He glanced down to see his hands still on his zipper. "I got a little anxious."

"Aw, Pokey, that's okay!" She hugged him, pecking his neck. "It doesn't have to be tonight. Just knowing I can do that kind of thing to you is enough for now."

Shuddering, Fez breathed a sigh of relief, his arm around her when she snuggled into him. What the hell was he going to do with this nut-job?


	22. Lust: Stairway to Heaven

En Route to Burkhart Ski Lodge Cabin

1977

"So there are this husband and wife, and they're just driving along when, all of a sudden, they get in a wreck. The husband walks away, just a few scrapes and bruises. But the wife is in a coma, and she's in this coma for days and those days turn into weeks, and before anyone knows it, months have gone by. One day, the nurse is giving the wife a sponge bath, and she notices on the machine that the wife's heartbeat goes way up when she washes her between the legs. Really excited, the nurse shares this information with the doctor, who calls the husband. The husband hurries over and the doctor tells him what happened and says, 'We think another jolt like that can revive your wife. What we want you to do is go in there and have oral sex with her.' The husband agrees to it, saying he only wants privacy. The doctor grants his wish and waits outside the door. About twenty minutes go by. Finally, the husband comes out, but he's in tears. The doctor asks what's wrong and the guy moans, 'I think I killed my wife!' Well, the doctor's just baffled. 'Didn't you have oral sex?' 'Yeah, but she choked!'"

"You're telling a crude, obnoxious joke that starts with two lovers getting in a car wreck while we're in the car, Eric?" Jackie asked from the back. "You out there with the kitty litter was better than this!"

Hyde peered down into the cooler between the two of them, wondering how many more pops he could hand to her to ward off the inevitable anguished cries of a heartbroken teenage girl. Only one more pack? You'd think Jackie would be bouncing through the roof of the car, or at least begging Eric to pull over and let her pee it all out.

"I'm with Jackie, Eric," Donna said. "Don't you know any shorter jokes?"

Oh, he knew why he had been stuck in the back with the most spiritless cheerleader he knew, wallowing in her own self-pity. Donna didn't want him next to her, and to be fair, that was for the best. When _Stairway to Heaven _came on the radio, the way she puckered her lips in between verses would only have resulted in him groping her thigh.

_There's a lady who's sure  
All that glitters is gold  
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.  
When she gets there she knows  
If the stores are all closed  
With a word she can get what she came for.  
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven._

Huh, he thought, craning his neck to make sure Eric kept both hands on the wheel and not on Donna, there's no way this chick would buy a stairway to Heaven. Donna—she played basketball, she read, she wrote, she listened to him go on and on about conspiracies that had been halfway concocted after a most influential puff from a joint.

"Well, somebody tell one," Jackie demanded him, crushing her latest empty can in a tiny fist. "Something has to keep my mind off of Michael before I go insane."

"I have one from my country," Fez said. "It involves a goat."

"Unless anyone's opposed," Hyde interrupted. "I have one that doesn't involve a goat, and it's pretty short."

"Go for it," Donna said, looking back at him, giving him a smile he couldn't help but return.

"So I started dating this girl who was a Siamese twin. Pretty sweet, right? Turns out, though, it wasn't great, so I started fucking her sister behind her back!"

Saliva sprayed the inside of the windshield, Eric and Fez bursting with laughter, their shoulders jerking up and down. Wiping his eyes, Fez shook his head, inhaling deeper. All the signs of laughing till your side hurts, Hyde smirked, glancing back at Jackie, scowling at him. Aping her expression, he turned back to see Donna hadn't laughed either. Well, if those two had teamed up, there was no hope for any of them.

"Don't you guys know any jokes that I could repeat to my parents?" she asked.

"Yeah. You're starting to make me regret inviting all of you up at all." Jackie sighed to herself.

"Fine. You set the example then," Hyde challenged. "You tell one."

"Yeah, and if you can make us laugh while keeping it clean, I'll go back outside with the kitty litter just for you. How's that?" Eric snickered from the driver's seat. It sounded good to Hyde if he could climb up into the seat and drive off without him. For once, the car was silent, Jackie's eyes memorizing the ceiling of the Vista Cruiser, waiting for a joke to materialize out of the brown padding.

"I have one. It's not nice, but it's far from Siamese twin adultery, and I think all of you will appreciate it. Why did the cheerleader have a sore belly button?"

"Cheerleader jokes, Jackie?" Donna asked, turning back to face her. "I don't know. Why did the cheerleader have a sore belly button?"

"Because her boyfriend was a cheerleader, too."

The corners of Hyde's mouth curled up while he stared out the window. He would have to remember that the next time Joey Gaither started boasting in history about balancing a cheerleader in each of his palms. He thought about asking her if the answer also applied to Kelsos, but hearing a soft giggle out of her proved far better than those fuckin' wails.

"That is one I can repeat, Jackie," Eric said, nodding in approval. "Looks like we're almost there."

* * *

_There's a feeling I get  
When I look to the west,  
And my spirit is crying for leaving.  
In my thoughts I have seen  
Rings of smoke through the trees,  
And the voices of those who standing looking.  
Ooh, it makes me wonder,  
Ooh, it really makes me wonder._

Hearing her hum that song to herself when they came one by one through the door into a blanket-infested living room made his ears ring. She walked past him to take in the Aspen-like atmosphere, a sweet, maple-y smell. Mindlessly humming to herself while she walked, Donna poked her head in hall closets, up into shelves, making Hyde imagine her as a bee, buzzing back to her hive to crank out some honey. He was going to have to kiss her, to taste her, before they left here.

* * *

Humming _Stairway to Heaven _to himself in the bathroom, Hyde leaned his head back, letting it bump into the hanging mirror. Opening his eyes, the image of Donna, clad in a yellow and black striped string bikini evaporated, his view now the Indian-themed medicine cabinet in front of him. Tearing some toilet paper from the roll, he cleaned himself off and threw the wad into the toilet, flushing away the evidence of his lust. Forman. Forman, of all people, was on his way to having her right now in that bedroom, getting to rest his chin in the divot of her collarbone and plant kiss after kiss on that long white neck. If his leg, or something else, bumped her, it wouldn't matter.

Making sure steam permeated the space above the sink before he stuck his hands in, he worked the soap suds into a lather and worked it into every inch of his fingers, wringing the dirt out, wringing Donna out of his mind. Forman never had a girlfriend before, and back when they thought it was still cool to sleep in sleeping bags together underneath their homemade forts, Donna was the only girl Forman ever talked about. Yeah, she could do that to you. He'd like to prove it to you, he thought, but the proof's been flushed away.

All right, day one of keeping Donna out of your system, he decided, edging past Jackie to a chair with everyone's coats piled on it. Finding and creating new places for them busied his mind enough to block out the bawling mass that she was.

Settling into the chair that wasn't as comfortable as he had assumed it to be, he flipped through a dated _Mad Magazine_, still humming the melody that was not the same melody emitting from the record player.

"Why? Why did he do this to me?" she cried on the couch, nearly forming into a ball. "He was…supposed…to…love…me!" Letting her forehead drop down into her hand, she convulsed, blubbering more words that had even less coherency than the first couple of sentences. You go ahead and cry, Jackie, he thought. Nothing says buzz-kill like that sound right there.

As if he had willed her to, Donna stormed out of the bedroom and took a seat next to Jackie.

* * *

Damn, where did kissing her fit into his plan of getting over her? His face still burned from that slap she gave him, a real Hollywood slap that every 40s actress presented to her man that had done her wrong. Outside, sipping the amaretto Fez had decided to chug down earlier, he shuddered at what was going on inside. Oh, they weren't fooling around, not with Fez there blowing chunks, but they were in each other's arms, and it didn't matter if the space was a little cramped or if the setting wasn't ideal. They could simply enjoy the other's warmth for the night without a care in the world.

"Hyde?"

_Your head is humming and it wont go  
In case you don't know,  
The pipers calling you to join him,  
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow,  
And did you know  
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind_

In spite of cherishing those lyrics that blended so well with that medieval melody, he felt like changing them. "Fuckin' Forman, fucking, fucking Forman." Yep. Much better. There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold and she's fucking, fucking Forman.

"Hyde?"

He twitched at the sound, cursing himself for being taken so off-guard. Jackie stood in the doorway, bundled up from head to toe to the point where all he could see were those eyes that seemed to glimmer in the dark.

"What?"

"You…you kissed Donna back there."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Add that to the lyrics, and it made a Grammy-winning nightmare of a song. Debating whether to answer with a "so what" or some reference to where she had just come from that would imply she was a whore now that Kelso was here, he shrugged and took another sip of amaretto.

"Donna's with Eric," she continued.

"I know."

"Okay. Well, do you love her?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"If you love her, you should fight for her." He didn't like this new calm tone she spoke with, lecturing him when an hour ago she was screaming bloody murder for her own "love" gone wrong. But then, it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it, and his lips still tingled from that split second before she had pulled away from him. Easing his stance, he gave her a resigned laugh and gazed out into the snow-covered pines.

"Not in this case. You don't do that to your best friend." Yeah, he knew how hypocritical that sounded, reciting a credo he had been ready to let fall by the wayside if Donna had kissed him back, but it ultimately won in the end, didn't it?

"Wow," she breathed. About to ask her what was so "wow" about it, she backed into the living room, leaving the door open behind her.

Following her back inside, he didn't bother to look at Forman and Donna, snuggled together and fast asleep, or at Fez, still shirtless, cuddling the wastepaper basket like a teddy bear. Spreading out his sleeping bag on the other side of the couch, he removed his coat and boots and fanned out on it, flipping back to the page of the _Mad Magazine _he was on before. The light from the crackling fire allowing him to just barely watch the black-hat spy set a trap for the white-hat spy.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to my regulars who leave such great reviews after just about every chapter. They mean a lot.**


	23. Lust: Dream On

Point Place Loews Movie Theater

1980

This was it, Eric thought, rocking back and forth in his seat. There should be lyrics to the theme music. Well, there would be today. As soon as the familiar "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" appeared in its electric blue hue, he would belt out words, each one a release from the three years of hearing nothing but rumors and purposely not reading any articles about it to see who this Yoda was, whose Jedi powers matched, if not outshone, Ben Kenobi's.

"Hey, Donna, what do you think of this. '_Star Wars_/gonna see _Star Wars_/gonna see _Star Wars_/on the big screen…"

"Not going to be as catchy as _She'll be Comin' Round the Mountain_," she said, rolling her eyes, her arms folded.

"Hey, you agreed to come." On the other side of her, Jackie smoothed her skirt and sipped her Coke through the straw. After that, Hyde sat and if anyone bothered to watch him, they would have seen his path of vision was nowhere near the screen but on the lithe pair of legs to his left. That better change once the movie starts. It wasn't the same without Kelso or Fez there, but at least the three of them were with him, ready to see Luke Skywalker embrace his Jedi destiny and once more show the Empire who was boss.

"Easy there." Donna patted his arm. "It hasn't even started yet."

Just then, the dim lights in the packed theater were extinguished by some unseen force. Ha ha, force, Eric thought. The silhouettes of the few people in costume contrasted with the gold Fox logo appearing on the screen. What nerds, showing up to a premiere in costume…damn, he should have convinced everyone else to do that.

"You better not be thinking about what would have happened had you made us dress up." Hyde reached around both the girls and frogged him. "I see you looking down there at those geeks."

"Hit me one more time and I'll tell them we played with my TIE fighters in the backyard all day yesterday."

Nodding his head at his worthy opponent, Hyde relaxed back in his chair, any mutterings deafened by the drums and trumpets of the 20th Century Fox music. At last "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" appeared, and for two seconds, agonizing silence.

His lips dried at the familiar theme. They moved, reading without voice the yellow narrative zooming through space. A dark time for the Rebellion? That can't be good. Hoth. The name didn't strike any nerves in Eric's brain while he wondered what that planet could possibly look like. Darth Vader obsessed with finding young Skywalker? Holy shit this was going to be the best movie ever!

* * *

"That was actually better than the first one," Donna announced, the four of them blinded by the sunshine coming out of the theater. Squinting their way to the Vista Cruiser, no one answered her. "Nobody else wants to give their opinion? I honestly thought it was good. That fight at the end really had me on the edge of my seat."

The fight? He knew she was being sincere because she was too, too Donna to lie about whether or not she liked something, but the word fight didn't do it justice. That was like, the ultimate confrontation of all time, good versus evil in the most basic terms, and to top it all off, evil might actually be good's father? He didn't know what to think. Part of his brain, the one still stuck on survival and functioning, managed to keep them all alive and pull them into the driveway at his house. It even offered to drop Jackie off, but she insisted on going to the house with everyone else, apparently wanting to talk to his mom about something.

"Eric?" He felt a tug on his sleeve. Why was he wearing short-sleeves when the planet was covered in snow? Oh, right. That was Hoth. This was Earth and on Earth, it was May.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you want to talk about the movie?" Donna took his hand. The two of them went up to his room and sat on his bed.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Yeah. You didn't say a word. I was scared you hated it. You've been looking forward to it for such a long time."

"Donna…" He didn't think he could love her more, but his heart skipped a beat. His palms sweated. He shivered. "I don't know what to think. My brain's on overload. I don't even know where to begin. I have so many questions!"

"Well, let's just go from the beginning to the end. What did you think of that abominable snowman thing?"

Hours went by, the red numbers on his clock turning one after the other, but they weren't even halfway through the movie, still so caught up that Princess Leia kissed Han Solo in that cave that really wasn't a cave at all. Han Solo? She picked some rough pirate…a scruffy-looking nerf-herder, to quote the bold princess herself? Could Luke detect that from the Force, or did he have no idea? Was he okay with that?

Sitting Indian-style across from each other, it was almost how it was when they were both nine and playing Monopoly together on his bed. He didn't know what part of the movie they were on now, must have been a training scene with Yoda, the coolest Muppet of all time, because Donna was wrinkling up her face and making some kind of croaking sound, but he couldn't hear a word she said. Nobody deserved a girl so beautiful, so smart, and so willing to put up with everything that made him a nerd.

_Half my life is in books written pages  
Live and learn from fools and from sages  
You know it's true  
All the things come back to you  
Sing with me, sing for the years  
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears  
Sing with me, if it's just for today  
Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away_

"Why's your alarm clock going off now?" she asked.

"What?" Aerosmith's shrieks and guitar riffs broke his gaze. "I must have set it for pm when I meant am."

_Dream on, dream on  
Dream yourself a dream come true  
Dream on, dream on  
Dream until your dream come true  
Dream on, dream on, dream on..._

"So I guess we'll just have to wait until the next movie. They can't leave us hanging like that."

"Hey, thanks for going with me. I know it's not really your thing." He rolled his eyes at how pale his words were compared to her. He edged closer, her eyes reeling him in like fishing poles. It astounded him how easily their lips came together, how comforting and yet, exhilarating, her skin felt against his own.

"I need you," he whispered before he released a moan from what she was doing to his neck.

"You're not thinking about Princess Leia in that tight jumpsuit, are you?"

"She's not my Donna."

* * *

**A/N: As a Star Wars fan, I can't imagine going to a theater and hearing for the first time Darth Vader is Luke's father. I liked seeing the new ones in the theater, well, 2 and 3 since 1...never happened...and that is as close as I've come to experiencing the magic of Star Wars on the big screen, not knowing what would happen. But for someone to go to Empire Strikes Back and not know what to expect...magic of cinema. Anyways, I wanted to capture how watching movies with people can bring them closer together.**


	24. Lust: The Winner Takes It All

Point Place Elementary School Playground

1975

"Oh! Jackie! They added on monkey bars! Let's stop here."

"Michael…" Jackie started, but she was soon dragged from the pavement to the fresh-cut grass that supported a jungle gym, see-saw, swings, and various other playground equipments she had not touched since she graduated on to middle school. Even in jeans and a sweater, she couldn't keep up with Kelso's wide stride. Her ears flooded with the swishing of the golden leaves she was running through to the new silver monkey bars. Kelso's long arms already gripped a bar. Swinging from it with a vacant expression on his face, the sleeves of his shirt drifted down to his shoulders, exposing bony, dimpled elbows.

"Hey!" he said. "I bet I can get from one end to the other faster than you can."

"That's because your arms are longer. You can skip bars."

"So can you! Watch. I'll touch every single one." Kelso, his legs brought up to his chest like a bird of prey, swung across the bars and jumped from the last one to the ground. He rubbed his palms where they extended up to his fingers. "Damn. I forgot these tear you up. Your turn."

"No, Michael. I don't think so."

"Come on, Jackie! Didn't you do these when you were a kid?"

"No. I stood around and gossiped with the other popular girls." Tapping her foot and folding her arms, she glared at him, waiting for him to suggest they go on to Janice Turner's party like they planned, but he stuck out his bottom lip instead.

"Can't we just play for a while? You don't even like Janice. Hey, I'll push you on the swings."

She didn't know where she had seen it, but an image came to her mind of a young woman that looked remarkably similar to herself in petticoats and brooches and a hat being pushed on a swing, strung up from a tree with vines of roses curling all around it. Her beau, in a coat with tails, pushed her from behind.

"Okay." She sat on the swing and held on with both hands. In less than a second, her stomach lurched at the sudden jerk that sent her flying forward. She went so high she could feel a "thunk" as she began her descent.

"Michael!" she shrieked.

"Don't be scared. That wasn't even as high as I could push you. Want to go over the bar?"

Closing her eyes, she once again felt she was soaring through the air. Opening one eye, she came face to face with the gold and crimson leaves on the tree in front of the swing set. Whooping, Jackie dropped back down, her shoulder blades coming together to brace themselves for the next push.

"Michael, come swing next to me. I think I can pump enough to stay this high."

"All right!" His long limbs crammed into the swing next to her. Standing on it, he pumped his legs up, grinning at her. "When we were kids, Forman and Hyde and me piled up a bunch of snow and got swinging as high as you and jumped off into it. I got a whole face-full!"

Jackie laughed, twisting her body just a little to add some waves to her ride. Still higher than she had ever swung herself, the momentum died down just enough for her to take control of the ride.

"Why'd you waste your time just talking at the playground? You could have talked inside during classes."

"I don't know, Michael. It was just a way to get in with the popular girls, I guess, not that I needed to make much of an effort. They all looked up to me anyways." She paused and bit her lip. "Michael, do your friends like me?"

"Sure they do." Her bottom lip dropped to argue, she gasped as Kelso leapt out of the swing and grabbed onto the tree branch in front of them. Hanging from it, he turned himself around to laugh at her shock, and then dropped down to the ground. "Not quite enough leaves to make it worth jumping into, but still fun. Jump out." He held out his arms like he was about to catch a child jumping off the high dive.

"What? You're not serious."

"Jackie, you got to learn to have a little fun. I'll catch you."

Well, if she did break her arm, she wouldn't have to go to Janice's party and it would be nice to order him from a hospital bed. He'd feel so guilty her whole room would be covered in stargazer lilies and tulips and bright sunflowers, whether they were all in season or not. Were chrysanthemums? She always wanted to know what those looked like. Holding her breath, she vaulted from the swing and smacked into Kelso's sweaty chest.

"You okay?"

Opening her eyes, she saw that he did have her, her feet nowhere near the ground. Wiggling out of his arms, her head snapped from the tree branch to the swing, to him, and finally back to the ground just underneath her. A few leaves blew around her designer boots, oblivious to the fact she just risked life and limb because Kelso talked her into it.

"Yeah! That was fun."

"I told you. Want to see-saw?" He ran over to it and straddled one end, waiting for her to join him. Who could resist those big brown eyes? He was like a puppy dog, just begging for someone, anyone to play with him, and she could never say no. "Wait till I tell everyone I got you to do that. That'll change things."

"Change things?"

"Uh…" The motion of the see-saw slowed before coming to a complete halt. "You know, I've always wanted to make out with you at this playground…"

"Change what, Michael?"

"Okay, so…maybe sometimes my friends don't love you." His eyes grew wide, a clear sign to Jackie he was stalling. He always did that when she cornered him! Why couldn't he just be a man and come out with it? "Look, it doesn't matter what they think because I love you and they love me, so they've got to love you by my fault."

"You mean default, you liar!" she screamed. "I asked you just five minutes ago if they liked me and you said they did and now I find out they don't. What? What is it? What is it about me they don't like?"

"Well, the fact you scream a lot for one."

"I wouldn't have to scream if I didn't have to keep you on such a short leash! I know. I bet they don't like me because you blame everything on me. I bet you don't tell them I yell at you because you were giving Sarah Vega the once-over at the lunch table right in front of me, or that I yell at you because you told me you would pay for our tickets to the carnival and then I had to pay both our way in!" Her nostrils flared, her eyebrows narrowed—as only Michael Kelso could make them do.

"Okay, I'm sorry. God! Jackie, look. I've been friends with them for a long time and it's just hard to let new people into the gang."

"They took in that Fez kid!"

"Yeah, well, he's not a girlfriend. Okay, one time, Forman brought this girl to the basement because he was wanting to show off in front of Donna. I don't even remember her name. It was some fat girl name anyway. The point is, none of us liked her because she was new, so she left."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" She always knew deep down she irritated them. Eric never failed to mention it, even ordering her to go home once. Fez worshipped the ground she walked on, but she was Jackie Burkhart! That was to be expected. No, what hurt the most was Donna and Hyde. Donna was the only girl, the only red-haired girl in the gang and if that wasn't a cry for help she didn't know what was, and every time she came down those steps, she could feel Hyde staring at her through those thick glasses, judging her, evaluating her and always concluding the same thing—that she wasn't good enough to be down there.

"You've lasted this long down there, right? You're my first serious girlfriend, Jackie, but not the first girl I've brought down there. My friends are weird if you haven't noticed. They need someone like me to keep them in line." He pushed back a thick lock of his hair. "The girls I've brought down were scared away in like, days. You're getting to them."

"Getting to them?" That sounded more like a skin rash than blossoming friendship.

"Yeah. It's like…they like you, but they don't know that they like you."

"Oh, Michael!" She jumped up into his arms again, this time not minding the sweat stains under his arms. It was like Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers staying together against all odds and to hell with the rest of the world! She pecked his lips and then asked him if he wanted to continue see-sawing.

* * *

His arm around her, they left the playground for Eric's basement, deciding to skip out on the party. Jackie frowned all the way back, not caring that Kelso didn't notice. It wasn't missing the party; he was right for once about not wanting to go. Janice was a bitch and this was the perfect was to cause a split among the popular girls. Once separated into factions, she knew most of them would join up with her and leave Janice in the dust. No, it was how the afternoon itself had gone, swinging and playing tag like little kids. She was supposed to feel…something when she touched him and when he touched her. She knew she was supposed to tingle and be left breathless by all the little things he did, but today was just like hanging out with a friend.

_I don't wanna talk  
About the things we've gone through  
Though it's hurting me  
Now it's history  
I've played all my cards  
And that's what you've done too  
Nothing more to say  
No more ace to play  
The winner takes it all  
The loser standing small  
Beside the victory  
That's her destiny_

"What are you humming?"

"Oh. I didn't realize I was. _Winner Takes it All. _I just started thinking about it for some reason."

"Oh, okay. Hey, it's nice out. We could talk everyone into going out to play basketball and you and me can sneak up to Forman's room and finally do it."

"Oh." See, it was just this sort of thing, she told herself. She should be jumping at the chance, dying to have his naked body pressed up against hers, to be joined as one. "Not tonight. The Formans don't have a nice enough setting."

"I get it. It's a 5-star resort or nothing for us, isn't it, baby?"

"Sure."

* * *

**A/N: It's the end of the Lust segment! Please review and tell me what you thought of it. The last segment will be posted soon, all taking place in 1981.**


	25. Love: Critical Mass

**A/N: All right, loyal readers. This is the last segment. As you will soon notice, the artists of the songs are jumbled to emphasize how much closer the group has come now. The order in which the members of the gang tell their stories stays the same, but they relate to different songs. I hope it's not too confusing for anyone. But that's a great reason to leave a review...another is just that you like the story and what it is that you like about it. Well, without further ado, I give you...love.**

* * *

December 19, 1981

It was a small room, a scant, picayune room, Donna thought, forming sophisticated, educated synonyms out of habit. Hot Donna, now broadcasting out of Chicago, was a deejay who brought in a higher class of listeners, to quote her latest review, not that she read those…all that much. She flung the curtains open to look out into the sanctuary, to see the bustling and panicking, in which tradition demanded she not partake. A few years ago, she would have laughed if someone told her she would grant every one of her father's requests to be married back in Point Place and in a church.

"Donna! What are you doing? What if Eric sees you?" Jackie pushed her aside and closed the curtains. "Ugh! I'd hit you if I could!"

Towering over her in just a slip, Donna laughed, shaking her head at the little banshee in navy blue that was setting her jaw and demanding an explanation.

"Jackie, take it easy! I just wanted to see what was going on out there."

"Well, you're not allowed, and as the Maid of Honor, I have to make sure you don't completely ruin your own wedding with all this feminist nonsense. Now, bend over so your mom can put on your dress."

Midge knocked on the door.

"Donna? It's me, your mom."

"Come on in, Mom. There's not much room."

Laurie and Brooke, her other two bridesmaids, only one by choice, were off somewhere passing out boutonnieres and corsages to the parents and grandparents and groomsmen, and that was just as well.

"Donna?"

"Come in, Brooke!" she shouted from underneath layers of white lace and satin.

"I brought some music for in here like you asked."

"Great! Just pop anything in. I don't even care at this point."

With Midge buttoning her up in the back and Jackie standing in front of her, smoothing out the long soft skirt, the screeching Steven Tyler and guitar riffs sent her head bobbing in rhythm.

_Celebrate, celebrate, celebrate it  
This is Critcal Mass  
So far, so good  
I heard the other say  
So good, so far  
They're takin' me away  
I drink to you, your mind, her ass  
We'll take a drink and break the glass  
Celebrate, celebrate, celebreak it  
This is Critical Mass_

"What are we listening to?" Midge asked.

"Aerosmith! Like, one of the best bands ever!" Donna squealed. "Come here, Brooke. I have to hug you. Is Betsy all set?"

"She sure is. My mom has her out there right now. Is that okay?"

"Oh, hell yeah. I don't care right now."

"Now, Donna," Jackie said, forcing Donna to remember the countless times Jackie lectured Kelso like that, with a "Now, Michael," starting every single one. "You have to eat a little bit before you go out there or else you'll pass out and crush me. Now I know how hard it is to find some kind of food that won't get on your dress, so…bananas!" She tore a banana from its bunch in the basket in the corner and held it out to her. "I don't care if you're not hungry. You're going to eat it."

Donna shoved it into her mouth.

"Wow, I'm sure that's the image Eric is imagining for tonight."

"Jackie!" she coughed, sending a small chunk of the banana back down her throat. "That's the dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Obviously, as much as I talk, it was bound to happen sometime." The two giggled as Laurie returned, plopping down in one chair and propping her feet up on another, her panties visible to everyone. From her cleavage, she produced a small bottle of whiskey.

"Uh, you want to ease up off the whore pedal there, Laurie?"

"When is this thing going to start? It's bad enough I'm being escorted by Fez down the aisle, but I have to be here all day?"

"Don't worry, Laurie. Donna has a bunch of cousins. I'm sure one of them will be drunk enough to give you a chance," Jackie said, taking one of her bobby pins out of her hair and cramming it into Donna's hair.

"I feel cut off from everything!" Donna said, cringing at that last pin. "Jackie, my hair's freakin' fine! I want to go see Eric."

"But, honey, you can't see Eric. You're about to marry him!" Midge protested.

_Now the tallest of two  
With a brush full of blue  
Paints surrealist scenes on the wall  
So I tell her for fun  
That it's really well done  
But she just ain't listenin' at all  
She points to my heart  
Tellin' me if I'm smart  
I'll practise and phase  
Out and admit, when the shoe doesn't fit  
And I went screamin' out down the hall_

"Hey, yeah," Donna breathed. "I'm marrying him today. I'm marrying him today!"

"Don't remind me that little shit is getting married before I do…well, not exactly before, but having a wedding before me anyway," Laurie mumbled from her two seats, biting down on the tip of a banana. None of them bothered looking at the door when it knocked.

"Donna? It's Kitty."

"Fuck!" Laurie sat up straight, twisted the cap back onto the whiskey bottle, and passed it to Brooke.

"Hi, everybody. I just wanted to come and see the bride-to-be. Brooke, honey, it's best to start out with something a little milder so early in the morning and then move on to the hard stuff. Oh, Donna. You look absolutely stunning!" The last word wobbled, a strong sob seeping from Kitty's lungs.

"Mrs. Forman, don't cry!"

"Donna, it's Kitty now, and I'm only crying because I'm…so…happy!" She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her eyes.

"When I'm happy, I like to smile," Midge said.

"Well, I won't keep you, honey. I just wanted to come and see you and tell you how much I love you, and how I know that Eric has been dreaming about this since the first day he saw you, and that he'll be a good husband, and someday a good father, and Red and I will always be there if you need us to babysit or mow the lawn…or fix your sink because Eric's not very mechanical!" Burrowing her face into her handkerchief, she blew her nose. "I'll see you out there."

"Can you believe her?" Laurie asked the air.

"I know!" Brooke answered. "She thought this was mine. Take it back, you tramp!"

Donna took deep breaths, forcing the tears in her eyes to go back wherever they came from. She couldn't cry on the one day she chose to wear mascara. Kitty, my mother-in-law, she smiled. My mother-in-law that sort of just recited Eric's vows to me. Eric her husband. Eric the father of her children. She bit her lip, wishing it were time to leave this cramped room, leave all these girls, and go be with her favorite Lost Boy, the one that actually found her.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Jackie asked her, looking into her eyes.

"Yeah," was all she could whisper. With a shaking hand, she grabbed Jackie's and crossed into the lobby, a heavy oak door the only thing blocking her from Eric. About to faint when she saw it was being pushed from the other side, she sighed when it was her father.

"Okay, the boys have the aisle runner down and are right behind me," he said, dabbing his own eyes with his own handkerchief. "You really do look beautiful, pumpkin."

"Thanks, Dad."

"I've always told you I never wanted to do this, that I wanted you to be my baby girl forever, but Donna, I have wanted this for you. I was hoping it would be Eric ever since you told me you loved him."

"Thanks." If she said anymore, she would burst into tears herself. How could anyone tell her dad what she wanted to tell him without crying? That he'd been a perfect gentlemen to her mother while she was here, that he hadn't gone all fatherly on Eric's ass, that he put up with Jackie demanding that, as the bride's father, it was his duty to place little mints onto a lace doily and tie a navy blue ribbon around it to make a wedding favor? That he'd been the most supportive father she could have ever had?

"You don't have to say anything, pumpkin. I know it."

"Someone turn that music off!" she shouted back behind her as the groomsmen took their places, Laurie and Fez first, then Brooke and Kelso, and then Jackie would walk down, followed by Betsy, all of them making their way towards Hyde and Eric.

_Really need it  
Really need your love  
Just then I heard a poundin' on the wall  
We're all there, sang the voice of twenty more  
I drink to you alas  
We'll take a drink and break the glass  
Celebrate, celebrate, celebreak it  
We are the Critical Mass  
Time and space is takin' me away  
Time erase, don't know the time of day_

The same note played over the organ again and again before the _Bridal Chorus_, the oak door opened, and the first person Donna saw was Eric, looking right at her with his jaw dropped.

Suddenly, she couldn't force the tears to stay in her eyes anymore.


	26. Love: She's Always a Woman

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

Kelso liked being at the head table. Everyone could see him, the flowers smelled good, and Brooke looked hotter than ever in navy blue. Scanning the reception hall for Betsy, he found her on Red's lap, being bounced and giggling. That was her, all right, big giggler.

"The Formans are so nice to watch her so we can sit at the table in peace," Brooke said, her head leaning on his arm.

"Yeah. They're really nice. One time, when I was ten, I couldn't figure out how to unlock their bathroom door and Red wasn't home, so Mrs. Forman got their hatchet from the garage and bailed me out. It was right out of _The Shining_, except she wasn't trying to kill me."

"Is that why you never lock the bathroom door?"

"That's exactly why, baby."

_She can kill with a smile  
She can wound with her eyes  
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies  
And she only reveals what she wants you to see  
She hides like a child,  
But she's always a woman to me_

"I love this song. It's so universal," she said.

"I'm pretty sure it was written right here on Earth, Brooke." And she had a PhD? "Did you want to dance to it?"

"Sure."

Just about to help her out of her chair, a little girl with squat legs and a mop of dark hair flung herself at him.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, hey, Betsy," he said.

"It's okay, Michael. She hasn't gotten to see you all day. I'm just going to run to the restroom." He watched her go, gathering Betsy up into his lap. In her fist, she held one of her daisies from the wreath in her hair she had fidgeted with during the entire ceremony.

"For you."

"For me?" Wiggling in his arms, she stuck it behind his ear. Gazing into those twinkling brown eyes of hers, he swallowed. It was hard to believe this little dressed-up angel had been wearing a tutu over her pink sweatpants and running around the apartment screaming "The Itsy Betsy Spider" at the top of her lungs. He would have never thought that her name sounded like "bitsy," but then, she was so smart, smarter than he would ever be. "Thanks, Bets. It's the nicest flower I've ever gotten."

"Wose?"

"No, this one is what's called a daisy." Well, at least today he was smarter than she was.

_Oh--she takes care of herself  
She can wait if she wants  
She's ahead of her time  
Oh--and she never gives out  
And she never gives in  
She just changes her mind  
_

"Hey, do you want to dance with me?" he asked her, already picking her up and leading her out onto the dance floor. Grinning and nodding her head, he laughed and ran out with her, watching her laugh at the speed in which he had taken them out there. Giving him a saliva-filled kiss on his lips, he swayed her back and forth in time with the song. A quick flash of light blinded him for a second. Turning around sharply, already trying to formulate the best burn in history, Kelso spotted Brooke with a camera in her hand, beaming at him. Yep, he thought to himself, smiling back at her. These two chicks bring out the best in me.

_  
She is frequently kind  
And she's suddenly cruel  
She can do as she pleases  
She's nobody's fool  
And she can't be convicted  
She's earned her degree  
And the most she will do  
Is throw shadows at you  
But she's always a woman to me_


	27. Love: Nobody Does it Better

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

"Hi! I'm Sharon, Donna's cousin. Fez, right?"

"Yes, that is me."

"The deejay's got Carly Simon playing, and I just love her, and well, I would really like to dance to it."

"Well, if you need someone to dance with, that is what I am here for."

_Nobody does it better  
Makes me feel sad for the rest  
Nobody does it half as good as you  
Baby, you're the best  
I wasn't looking but somehow you found me  
It tried to hide from your love light  
But like Heaven above me  
The spy who loved me  
Is keeping all my secrets safe tonight_

Fez held the red-haired vixen in his arms over the dance floor, the only light coming from the pale blue lights at the deejay station and the soft violet haze from the snow falling outside.

"It's definitely a good thing the tables were all moved away from those windows," he said, biting his lip at such an asinine thing to say. Donna sure knew a lot of great words.

"Yeah."

He sighed. Eric and Donna. Glancing back at the Head Table, he nodded to them and thanked them for deciding to save the Best Man's speech, their first dance together, the cake cutting, and all those wedding traditions for the middle of the reception. Of course he knew it was so both of them could actually eat their dinner and relax at the same time, but it turned out to be a good decision for him, too. They waved at him, Eric giving him a thumbs-up sign.

Coming back from his homeland and adjusting to being in America again had been rough, he remembered, but like he knew they would be, the five people he loved most were all there to pick him up, apologizing right and left for work or family issues keeping them from going to the airport with him. Aside from their smiles, what he noticed most today was Hyde's arm wrapped around Jackie, never leaving her side. He thought he would be jealous, even though he and her had broken up ages ago, but it was refreshing and somehow, a little comforting, to see them in love again.

"What are you thinking about?" Sharon asked him.

"My friends."

"Yeah. Eric's a good guy. I think he and Donna will last. What do you think?"

"Oh, they will last. They've lasted this long."

_The way that you hold me  
Whenever you hold me  
There's some kind of magic inside you  
That keeps me from running  
But just keep it coming  
How'd you learn to do the things you do?_

"You know, I didn't come here with a date," she said. "Are you dating Laurie?"

Laughter erupted from him. Clutching his sides, he laughed harder and harder until he coughed, feeling her hand pat his back.

"No."

"Sorry I asked," she laughed. "Didn't know it would kill you."

"Okay, happy couples," the deejay announced, the song fading away into nothingness. "I ask you to turn your attention to the Head Table to hear a one-of-a-kind speech from this winter's finest Best Man for the Pinciotti-Forman wedding, Mr. Steven Hyde!"

"Come to the Head Table with me," he whispered in her ear, the scent of her taking his breath away. "We cannot miss Hyde humiliate himself." He was the last one to take his place at the table, taking his seat right as Hyde stood. A bright flash from Mrs. Forman's camera left him seeing black and yellow spots in front of him, but it was worth it when he would take that picture and look at it again and again, so entire American family all right there in one room.

* * *

**A/N: I know these last two chapters were a little short, but sometimes short and sweet says it best. I don't own That 70s Show or the songs I'm using. As you can tell, the songs are jumbled in this section, emphasizing how close the gang is. A cyber pat on the back to anyone who can name the James Bond movie Carly Simon wrote "Nobody Does it Better For." I don't even know, so I'm going to look it up to make sure none of you pull a fast one on me. Lol.**


	28. Love: I Was Made for Loving You

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

"One-of-a-kind? I'm going to kick his ass."

"Toby's new, Hyde, and he's doing a great job if you want my professional opinion. Now don't be a clichéd jackass and show the room my panties," Donna growled at him under her breath. He stood, licking his lips, wishing Jackie hadn't taken his sunglasses for the day, or wishing she was seated next to him so he could pluck them from her, but neither one seemed likely to happen. Picking up the microphone, he took a breath.

* * *

_Five hours earlier:_

_"I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married!" Forman paced around the dressing room, his hands clutching either side of his head. "Why didn't you bring a stash? You're the freakin' Best Man and you didn't bring a stash?"_

_"Wow, any higher-pitched and I'd say you were freaking out."_

_"Hyde! I am freaking out! But I'm stuck. I jilted her once, so it's only fair…yep. That's exactly what's going to happen. This last year? All this planning and picking out flowers and tux fittings? You know what it is?"_

_"Wedding planning?"_

_"No! It's revenge! I left her, so she's going to leave me. I'm going to be standing at that altar and the door's going to open and it's going to be Bob, waddling down the aisle with a note that says, 'No thanks' on it!" Forman threw himself into a chair, elbows draped over the arms. _

_"Hey, uh, do you want me to get Red, man? Give you some father-son advice or something?"_

_"No, no, he already did all of that. Gave me a step-by-step tutorial on how to replace a light bulb and told me to always keep her happy. You didn't bring any beer or anything?"_

_Hyde shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets to think. No, don't put your hands in your pockets, you idiot! That can't possibly calm you down. You can't even think about that right now. Forman. Forman. _

_"Hey, remember going and seeing KISS?"_

_"What?"_

_"KISS, man! The six of us? Donna couldn't keep her hands off of you."_

_"Yeah, well," Forman said, shrugging. "I am irresistible."_

_"I wouldn't go that far, but you remember when Fez got all our attention and shouted that you guys were making out?"_

_"Probably not, since I was making out."_

_"Okay, well, what song did you start making out to?" He waited for Forman to answer. Locking out his arms, he rested his palms on the arms of the chair and stared down at him. "'__Tonight I wanna give it all to you/In the darkness/There's so much I wanna do/And tonight I wanna lay it at your feet/cause girl, I was made for you/And girl, you were made for me.' Ring a bell?"_

_"'I was made for loving you, baby/__I was made for lovin' you, baby/You were made for lovin' me/And I cant get enough of you baby/Can you get enough of me!" Forman sang back. _

_"Okay, enough. My point is, if you think about the lyrics, man, that's the song Donna chose to make out with you to. Now, you're going to get up, you're going to hum that little tune in your head, and walk out there with me. You're going to wait for her, wait for that big door to open, hear the familiar 'Here Comes the Bride' crap, and…" His breath hitched, taking in the depth of his own words. "And she's going to be looking right at you." Don't put your hands in your pocket. No. Don't even think about what's in your pocket. Forman. Think about Forman. "Are you ready?"_

_"Yeah. Yeah, Hyde. I'm ready." Forman stood and placed his hand on the doorknob that would lead out to the altar. Inhaling, he sang the words, "'Tonight I wanna see/it in your eyes/Feel the magic/There's something that drives me wild/And tonight we're gonna make it all come true.'"_

_They stood at the altar together, both of them mumbling, __"Oh, can't get enough, oh oh/I can't get enough, oh, oh/I can't get enough/Yeah, ha."_

_Red and Mrs. Forman came down the aisle, him beaming, visibly proud of Forman for once, but the trade-off was that he was shaking his head at Mrs. Forman, bawling her eyes out and still trying to smile at the crowd. Midge and her new husband Greg or Scott or some beach bum name came next, both tanned and displaying hourglass figures. _

_"Why didn't your mom wear a backless dress?"_

_"Hyde! My bride's about to come down the aisle and you want me to think about my mom?"_

_Hyde chuckled, frogging Forman on the arm, but much lighter than he usually did. He didn't recognize the classical piece Donna chose for her attendants to come down the aisle, and since she had made the smart move to keep him here with Forman, he didn't really care. Fez and Laurie came first, Fez's chest swelled, blowing kisses at the string of cousins on either side of him. _

_"I don't know which one is the bigger whore," Forman mumbled, causing Hyde to snort. Just like old times, sitting at the kitchen table, both of them trading barbs with Laurie. Looking up, Kelso escorted Brooke with a face so solemn it was comical in and of itself, like some trainer was screaming in his face at the police academy rather than just being a groomsman at a wedding._

_"Is Kelso on Valium or something?"_

_"Maybe he's got a hard-on."_

_Hyde refused to laugh even though he found that hysterical because it was Jackie's turn, grinning and nodding to the guests, gliding down the aisle with a bouquet he would swear was bigger than Donna's. Taking her place up by them, he smiled at her and she smiled back. It had taken a lot, a lot, to get her back, to convince her to take him back. _

_It would be time soon._

* * *

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

"I, I'm not big on speeches," he said, gazing out into the crowd, spotting Red and Mrs. Forman smiling up at him. "Fortunately today's not about me, though. It's about For-Eric and Donna. They've been through it all and have done a lot of stupid things over the years, to their parents, to their friends, to each other." A small grin formed on his face at the thought of them completely confused as to where he was going with this. "But no matter what, here they are. So, I know a lot of people are going to tell you today that this wedding is just the first step, but as far as I'm concerned, you guys don't have to worry about the rest of the steps at all." He turned to look at them, seeing Donna's face swollen from crying for like the thousandth time that day and Forman's face as it had been since he had known him, accepting, inviting, good. "So, to Eric and Donna, two of my best friends and two of the best people I know. They were made for loving each other. Oh, and right now I'm supposed to turn the mike over to Donna because she has something planned. Forman? I'm glad I'm not you right now."

Donna hugged him as she took the microphone from him, pecking his lips and stepping down onto the dance floor. Heaving a sigh of release, he fell into his seat, wondering why it now smelled. Oh yeah, my sweat, he thought. Hearing shuffling to his right, he saw Jackie forcing Eric to scoot in for her, making her way to Donna's now empty seat to sit next to him.

"That was great, baby," she said, kissing his ear. "And because you were so heartfelt, I have a present for you."

Smirking at the variety of things…and actions…she called presents, he turned to see his sunglasses right in front of his face.

"Did Donna tell you what she's about to do?"

"No," Jackie said, shaking her head. "I mean, I know she's doing something. So tell me!"

"No."

"Please, oh please?"

"Jackie, you're about to find out in like thirty seconds."


	29. Love: Fernando

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

Eric took her in, so tall and elegant in that lacy gown. Even though he had told her so many times she was beautiful, hot, gorgeous, sexy—he never used the word radiant, but here it was. Donna was as radiant a bride as he could imagine, and she was his bride.

"Eric," she said, adjusting the microphone. "We decided on the traditional vows way back when and that was fine. It really was. I would have fallen apart no matter what I said. But I still wanted to do something special for you, something that wasn't tradition. Just me. Just me and just you. This is the introduction to our first dance as husband and wife, and it was the only part of the wedding planning I didn't share with you because I wanted it to be a surprise."

Eric leaned forward to stare at Jackie, eyes wide, but she shook her head, her eyes even wider than his. He glared at Hyde next, but the Zen-master kept a straight, unreadable face. Damn, if she didn't tell Jackie what she was going to do…

"It's not the most romantic song, and it's not even really my taste or yours, but it was the song we were singing when I first realized I had fallen in love with you, and I was pretty sure you had fallen in love with me."

Not the song that was playing, but the song that they had been singing, Eric repeated in his mind, backtracking years and years, sorting through Circles and breakups and group outings, sifting through all of them to uncover what song she could possible be…

_Can you hear the drums, Fernando?  
I remember long ago another starry night like this  
In the firelight, Fernando_

"Oh! Oh my God!" he shouted, standing up and making his way to her, mouthing the words with an exaggerated expression, shaking his hips just like he did in the driveway that separated their houses.

* * *

Forman House

1976

It was a shame she wore an ascot, covering up her long neck. Her hair parted to the side, she was a vision, a vision who had surprised herself by having a great time at a disco that night. There was a moment of silence between them, and Eric started to wonder if his wide blue collar really didn't look all that great. He blinked, knowing insecurity was about to overtake him, that he would never be as big a bad boy as Hyde, as attractive as Kelso, or even as cute as Fez. No, no tonight, you're going to be confident. Remember what you told yourself last year? You're a new man, Eric Forman.

"Do you remember that night we crossed the Rio Grande?"

"What?"

"I can see it in your eyes."

"What are you talking about?" He edged closer to her, and stretched his arm across her back. Reeling her into him, he was about to end it all there and beg her to kiss him.

"How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land?" He let the melody come in gradually, extending his arm toward the horizon. Ignoring her protests, he let the chorus of the awesomely bad song project out of him, dancing like a maniac against her. Her palm across his mouth shushed him.

"I'm sorry. I hate dance music." There, an admission of complete truth and he still appeared confident. Good. This was good.

"Why'd you go?"

"I like you." It came out broken, but too lost in her to care, he only noticed her bewildered face turn into a touched one, one that didn't know what to say.

"So…you're in like with me?"

"Donna, I'm in…" Just say it, you dumbass! Here she was, his best friend, his ideal woman before him, locking eyes with him. Taking her arms, he crashed into her, kissing her as if any second she would slap him away and never want to come to the basement anymore, never want to come into his house or even see him again. But she didn't resist it. He could feel her body conform to his, turning her head at the slightest angle to accommodate him.

When they broke from each other, his lips stung, cold at the shock of being away from hers.

"I can't dance."

Still looking dazed from it herself, Donna shrugged. "You'll learn. 'There was something in the air that night/the stars were bright/Fernando."

"Donna, I really want to kiss you again." Her body swaying around him, accepting his kisses like she accepted food, board game pieces, cards from him. Hearing his girl-next-door tell him to shut up and dance, he joined her, the dance moves growing crazier by the second, their voices growing louder until Red finally came out of the house and ordered Eric inside.

* * *

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

_They were closer now, Fernando  
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally  
I was so afraid, Fernando  
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die  
And I'm not ashamed to say  
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry_

Once again with her, the two of them leapt and shook with all the grace of two elephants on the dance floor, the guests rolling in laughter. Eric fell to his knees and clapped his hands like a flamenco dancer, watching her stomp and roll her arms around, laughing. She never looked more beautiful.

_There was something in the air that night  
The stars were bright, Fernando  
They were shining there for you and me  
For liberty, Fernando  
Though I never thought that we could lose  
There's no regret  
If I had to do the same again  
I would, my friend, Fernando  
Yes, if I had to do the same again  
I would, my friend, Fernando..._

Teetering over him, he caught her and dipped her, glancing over at the Head Table behind her. Jackie weaved all around Hyde, singing every word while he sat unmoving. To their left, Kelso and Brooke swayed back and forth together, singing the lyrics to Betsy, who was now sitting on the table, Brooke taking her hands and having her clap to the beat. On the other side, Fez was singing, returning the thumbs-up Eric gave him earlier, his hand exploring Sharon and heading further and further south.

"Are you looking at how nuts our friends are?" she asked him.

"Not anymore. Donna, I love you."

"Song's about over. I say we give them a big finish."


	30. Love: The Rain Song

**A/N: Well, this is it. I hope you had as much fun reading my story as I did writing it. I don't know if I will write another T70S fic, but if the spirit moves me, a story will come. I don't own it, though! All I ask is that you leave a review at the end. - Willo**

* * *

Celebrations Hall

December 19, 1981

Pulling Laurie's hair, Jackie felt the rest of the unmarried girls straighten her fingers and drag her away from her. Of all people to catch Donna's bouquet! Still growling at her from the other end of the Head Table, she gulped down her champagne and waited for Hyde to come back from the deejay table, probably threatening the poor kid to play less Peter Frampton.

"Are you still mad about that?"

"Steven! I'm the Maid of Honor! I should have caught her bouquet. I could have handled it if Brooke caught the bouquet. That might finally make Michael propose to her, but Laurie? Laurie? Fez's ex-wife? The girl that was born with a tail? Steven, I heard how much she waxes. That alone disqualifies her from any bouquet catching."

"Well, you better calm down. Donna's coming your way."

"Hey!" Jackie always took the "turn that frown upside down" phrase literally and brightened the instant she saw Donna, sweating and glowing.

"I just wanted to let you know Eric and I are about to take off. We're gonna do one more dance and we'd really like it if everybody joins us. You're not going to be difficult about it, are you, Hyde?"

"Nope," he sighed, standing up and taking Jackie's hand. "I minded the speech, though, so what's it matter how I feel about it?"

"Good enough for me!" Jackie yelled, pulling him close to her, listening to Led Zeppelin's _Rain Song _wash over them.

_This is the springtime of my loving-  
The second season I am to know  
You are the sunlight in my growing-  
So little warmth I've felt before.  
It isn't hard to feel me glowing-  
I watched the fire that grew so low_

She would never admit it to Hyde, but she always considered it ironic his favorite band played such romantic songs. He told her once the origin of this song was that George Harrison told John Bonham that their group never did any ballads, so the first two notes of the song were a credit to Harrison because they were from his song _Something_, which she knew well. Robert Plant's voice grew on her after time and it soon became one of her favorite songs.

She felt Hyde's forehead press against her temple, leaning in to lock eyes with her as they always did when they danced, and this was the first time they were dancing to Zeppelin. Throw in some pot and get him out of his tux and he'd be in Heaven, she thought.

_Talk, talk-  
I've felt the coldness of my winter  
I never thought it would ever go  
I cursed the gloom that set upon us...__But I know that I love you s__o  
But I know that I love you so_

She held him tighter, breathing him in, pulling at the rough texture of his tux collar. What a roller coaster last year had been, breaking things off with Fez right before he lost his mother, and then taking Hyde back, just this last time, she had warned. It was always when some man walked out of her life that she went running to him, and he, in his own way, ran to her first this time, knocking on the apartment door, frozen at the sight of her in his Zeppelin t-shirt he gave her for her birthday. But all those troubled times were over, she promised herself, no more pestering about marriage, no more rambles about their future unless it was absolutely necessary, like back when Zelda's Bridal put an ad in the paper for consultants. Jackie walked in, told them what looked good and what didn't, and the next thing she knew, she was offered a position as a wedding planner. She couldn't believe to this day Hyde understood what she was saying from her incessant squealing, jumping, and clapping, but he must have been used to her doing that.

Best of all, it allowed her to stay in Point Place with him, but he made her promise she wouldn't plan Eric and Donna's wedding.

_"You'll get in a fight and lose your best friend and she'll fire you."_

_"As Maid of Honor or as her wedding planner?"_

_"Maybe both."_

As it turned out, he had been right since Donna knocked on her door and explained that she wanted to plan her own wedding. Looking around at the flowers, the decorations, her own dress, she had to admit Donna did a good job without her, and it let her focus on her Maid of Honor duties. It was nice to have someone who could bring her back to Earth.

_These are the seasons of emotion  
And like the winds they rise and fall  
This is the wonder of devotion-  
I see the torch we all must hold.  
This is the mystery of the quotient-  
Upon us all a little rain  
Must fall.  
Just a little rain?  
Ooooh, yeah yeah yeah!_

"All right, wedding guests. That was the last dance for our bride and groom. Let's give them one more round of applause as they head off for their honeymoon!"

The remaining guests whooped and clapped at Donna and Eric, hand-in-hand, leaving the reception room, waving goodbye at all of them. Jackie held her breath, her cheeks suddenly feeling hot. Stifling a sob, she felt a tear roll down her face.

"Jackie? What's wrong?" His fingers grazed the sensitive skin underneath her eye, brushing her tear off of her.

"It's not the same. Donna's married. I'm never going to have her all to myself again!" Weeping, she let him hold her, rub her shoulder blade with his strong hand. No more girl nights, no more calling her up whenever she wanted. How could her Maid of Honor duties have blinded her from it?

"It's not like she's not your friend anymore. She'll make time for you, Jackie. Come on. Don't cry." A year ago, she would have unleashed all her fury at him, accusing him of not caring, of dismissing every strong feeling she had as foolish, but she knew him better now, knew that he was trying to be as tender with his words as the soft rubbing of her back was.

"I know, but…why didn't the Maid of Honor guide say anything about this?"

"Would it help if I bullied Laurie into giving you the bouquet?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Steven, most everyone's gone. Even Mr. and Mrs. Forman are leaving. Do you want to stay anymore?"

"No, but I promised Mrs. Forman I'd close up shop for her here so they could go. You don't have to stick around if you'd rather go back and change."

"No! I want to see this place when it's empty! There's so much we can do in here, just the two of us." She winked at him and let her hands slide down his hips and pinched his bottom.

"I do like the way you think." He cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick kiss before shooing out Fez and Sharon, making out behind one of the Ficus trees.

"Yackie, you must talk to Hyde. He has no concept of boundaries," Fez slurred, his arm still entwined around Sharon, who was hiccupping.

"Yeah, but this way, you can go back to your apartment and be alone," she said. "Is Brooke still here?"

"You are so smart, you know that?" He almost tripped over his own foot when she came to hug him, pick-pocketing his keys. "You're the best, Yackie."

"Likewise." Running over to Brooke, she pulled her hand up to hers and smothered the keys between them. "Guess who the designated driver is tonight?"

* * *

Toby the deejay was the last to leave since he waited on Hyde to pay him.

"Last envelope of the day," he said, flinging the envelope at him. "Don't spend it all in one place."

"What about the…"

"I'll think you'll be very happy, my man. Don't you have a term paper to write or something?"

"I'm on Christmas break!"

"Okay, well, fa la la la get the hell out."

"Steven, he left all his equipment here."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I told him he could leave it here for the night. The place is closed tomorrow, but their manager comes in, so she'll let him in and he can take it out then."

"Okay…" She finished picking up the rest of the place cards, glancing out the window after each one. "It's snowing!"

"Is it?" Hyde glanced out the window. A soft, hazy violet hue had taken over the sky and the streets, the harsh white beams from the streetlights providing a violent contrast to it. It was the powdery kind, the kind that was useless in a snowball fight and sledding but fun to be caught in on a windy day. When the wind blew, it reminded her of the cartoon swarms of bees forming shapes when they wanted to attack Winnie-the-Pooh. "Huh. Want to go outside for a bit?"

"Yeah, okay," she yelled back to him, leaning over the counter in the hall for her coat, which had fallen on the floor. Shaking off the lint, she flung it over her shoulders.

"Come on." Hyde, in just his tux minus the jacket, took her hand and led her to Celebration Hall's front step.

"What's your rush?"

Instead of him answering her, she heard the strumming of a mandolin and guitar coming from inside the reception hall. The notes were jarring at first, but they swelled and heightened into a gentle series that she recognized.

"You know what song that is?"

"That's _The Rain Song_, but it's instrumental."

"Yeah. Badass, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, uh, Jackie?" He tilted his body so he halfway faced her. "You like this song, right?" He took his sunglasses off in one swift movement and clipped them onto his belt.

"It's my favorite Led Zeppelin song." Had he been drinking? He was sweating in the middle of a snowfall. Pulling him out from the awning to let the cool air hit him, she shook some of the snow from her hair until he started running his fingers through it.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed, and it took all her willpower to refrain from responding to it. She knew so many things scared him and one of those things was when she called him cute and sweet and so many other names that made him uncomfortable for some ungodly reason. But if he felt like saying those kinds of things, who was she to stop him? But he seemed to catch himself because he broke away from their locked eyes and stared at the snowy ground.

"Jackie, you probably don't remember, but you looked like this one time before. You came to Forman's basement in a dress that exact same color and some snow still stuck in your hair. We were all inside and you had come back because your da—you came down and we just hung out for a while, all of us?"

"I remember," she said, nodding, melting at the fact he had been sensitive enough to avoid mentioning why she had arrived at the basement in the first place that evening.

"If I show you something, will you promise not scream and jump up and down or anything that'll attract attention?"

"No! Steven, we're the only people out here. You have the most gorgeous instrumental song I've ever heard blaring and you think I'll attract attention?" She stopped when his hand stroked her chin and then fingered up until he clamped her lips together, gently, but purposeful enough to keep her from fighting it.

"I'm trying to do something important here, Jackie, and I don't want to steal Forman and Donna's thunder, so any announcements, any calls you want to make will just have to wait till tomorrow, okay? Please? Jackie, when you came in that night, all I could think of was _The Rain Song_, how I wanted you with me when it played. I wished you would have called me and I could have shown up at that dance with you. I wished you would have let me pound the shit out of your dad for doing that to you. Look, this is as romantic as I can make it."

She saw his hand dig down into his pocket and bring a small black box up to her. He opened it, revealing a glistening circular diamond against a gold band. Her heart racing, she brought her fingers up to his where he had released his clamp on her lips and was now stroking them, massaging them.

"Now, come on, don't cry. You know I can't stand it. Jackie, I don't want to ever be without you again. Will you marry me?"

Exploding with tears, she slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him, that rush that always overwhelmed her stronger than ever before. It might have been the light, but his eyes seemed more watery than usual. It was hitting just now, as if he were holding back tears. Nodding her head in a frantic, spastic frenzy, she kissed him again and again, savoring his hands cupping her face, a sort of unofficial way of telling her he loved her, seeing as he always kissed her that way when they woke up together, when she did something to make him laugh, when they were finished making love. He wrapped his arms around her waist, a gentle hold that, with a push, could be crushing, but this was her Steven she was talking about. He knew just the right way to do it.

"You know I think when you run your fingers through my hair is just about the sexiest thing you do," he said, giving her a hard kiss on the side of her neck.

"Oh, Steven, I love you."

"I…" he swallowed, giving her a smile. "I love you, too."

"Oh, my God, we're engaged! I'm telling everybody! No, wait. I promised you I'd wait until tomorrow. But first thing tomorrow, I'm talking like, dawn, I'm telling everybody! We're getting married! Oh, my God! I get to plan my own wedding! I get to have kids with little afros!"

"Jackie…"

"It's okay! They'll learn Zeppelin and Rolling Stone songs and I'll even throw in some Jethro Tull for you, just as long as you let them give me ABBA."

She expected a certain amount of sternness for jumping from Point A to Point T to Point Y and back to F, but instead, an amused smile greeted her and warm hands pulled her to him, the snow still falling in their hair and their shoulders. He leaned down and gave her the softest kiss she could imagine before taking her hand and walking back inside with her.

"We're engaged! I can't believe it! Oh, Steven! What do we do now?"

"I'm not opposed to doing it."

Giving him a push as they opened the door, she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"How about in the coat room?"

"Yes, dear."

That night, the six went their separate ways, each one knowing it was only temporary. There was something about the sleepy, redundant Point Place that always called them back...or maybe Point Place had nothing to do with it. Tonight, a few of them were leaving it, Eric and Donna setting off for their honeymoon and Kelso on his way back to Chicago to be with his daughter and the woman he decided was hot enough to turn him into a one-woman man. Even after going to his native home for a few months, Fez felt this place, this town, these people, call back to him, and sitting with a beautiful girl in front of the TV, sobering up to an old Humphrey Bogart movie arm in arm. He wondered what tomorrow would bring now that the wedding finally made him feel...happy again. And in the coat room of Celebrations Hall, a yin and yang, one holding the other up against the wall, celebrated in their own way and, just for that night, forgot anyone else in the world existed.


End file.
